ma 


Jby 
H.C.CHATFIELD-TAYLOR 


3  56 


THE   IDLE   BORN 


THE  IDLE  BORN 


A  COMEDY  OF  MANNERS 


BY 


H.  C.  CHATFIELD-TAYLOR 

Author  of '"  Two  Women  and  a  fool,"  '•''The  Land  of  tht 
Castanet,"  "The  Vice  of  Fools,'"  "An  American  Peeress,"  etc. 

IN  COLLABORATION  WITH 

REGINALD  DE  KOVEN 


HERBERT  S.  STONE  AND  COMPANY 

ELDRIDGE  COURT,  CHICAGO 

MDCCCC 


COPYRIGHT,    IQOO,    BY 
HERBERT     3.    STONE   &    CO 


A  HOMILY 


When  Isaac  Watts  wrote  his  time- 
worn  lines  about  the  mischief  Satan 
finds  for  idle  hands  he  perhaps  found 
his  inspiration  in  the  ' '  smart  society  " 
of  the  day.  Certainly  the  courts  of  the 
Restoration  and  George  the  First  pre 
sented  a  spectacle  of  depravity  which 
might  even  shock  a  far  more  liberal- 
minded  person  than  a  non-conformist 
minister. 

The  point  of  view,  however,  of  the 
author  of  Psalms  and  Hymns  must 
have  been  restricted  by  his  opportuni 
ties.  The  Sabbath  lighting  of  White 
hall,  and  the  sounding  of  the  tabors  for 
the  weekly  ' '  brawl, "  or  a  boyish  glimpse 
through  the  trees  of  Bird  Cage  walk  of 
the  Merry  Monarch  romping  with  his 
spaniels  and  greyhounds  and  followed 


2229124 


ii  A    HOMILY 

apace  by  a  bevy  of  laughing  beauties, 
whose  reputations  were  as  highly  col 
ored  as  their  cheeks,  may  have  been 
sufficient  to  impress  the  mind  of  the 
youthful  Puritan  with  the  shallowness 
of  Vanity  Fair.  Or,  again,  when  grown 
to  manhood,  the  pastor  of  Mark  Lane 
may  have  received  his  impressions  of 
the  gross  and  vulgar  Hanoverian  court 
while  passing  in  his  humble  wanderings 
the  country  drive,  called  Hyde  Park, 
where  the  ladies  drove  round  and  round 
in  a  cloud  of  dust,  singing,  laughing, 
tickling  each  other  and  munching  cheese 
cakes  and  China  oranges.  He  might 
even  have  sauntered  to  the  river  side, 
and  beheld  a  royal  barge,  with  its 
rowers  in  scarlet  jackets,  bearing  a  party 
of  pleasure-seeking  dames  and  attend 
ant  Maccaronis  to  Marble  Hill  or 
Twickingham.  A  glimpse  only  of  gay, 
laughing  ladies  in  slouch  hats  and  falling 
mantles,  of  gentlemen  in  puce-colored 
coats,  with  cocked  hats,  and  old  point 


A    HOMILY  iii 

lace  dark  as  coffee  water  could  make  it; 
but  enough  to  cause  the  good  man  to 
shudder  and  offer  a  prayer  for  the  souls 
of  the  idle  born. 

Of  the  lives  of  those  fine  people — 
of  their  evil  ways — the  Rev.  Issac  Watts 
could  know  but  little,  except  as  the 
scandals  of  the  court  were  whispered  in 
distorted  form,  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
or  pointed  by  innuendo  in  the  pages  of 
the  Tatler. 

Society  then  was  the  court,  and  the 
court  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes 
the  government.  The  chief  mischief 
provided  by  Satan  for  the  idle  was  the 
means  to  barter  place  and  emolument, 
the  power  to  injure  their  fellow  men. 
People  have  not  changed  appreciably 
since  then,  for  human  nature  alters 
little,  but  in  the  never  ending  conflict 
between  the  powers  of  good  and  evil 
the  good  is  slowly  but  surely  advancing, 
and  were  Isaac  Watts  to  return  to  earth 
to-day  he  would  find  many  changes 


iv  A    HOMILY 

since  he  retired  from  the  whirl  of  Lon 
don  town  to  the  quiet  of  Theobold's 
Newington.  There  are  still  good  men 
to  pray  for  the  souls  of  the  idle  born, — 
but  the  gay  and  frivolous  have  been 
shorn  of  their  power.  A  Chesterfield 
may  still  loiter  over  the  tea  cups  in  my 
lady's  drawing-room,  or  a  Maryborough 
fight  for  his  country  in  foreign  lands, 
but  the  class  to  which  Isaac  Watts  be 
longed — the  Commoners  of  England, 
the  people  of  America — are  now  the 
power  which  governs.  Ruling  only  it 
self,  society  has  sunk  to  the  position  of 
the  court  of  a  Bourbon  Pretender.  It 
keeps  up  its  forms  and  pretenses;  it 
bows  and  scrapes,  while  the  world  moves 
on,  turning,  perchance,  to  laugh  or 
point  a  moral. 

Shorn  of  its  laces  and  tambour  work, 
its  cocked  hats  and  gossamer  stockings, 
society  becomes  a  somewhat  shoddy 
manikin,  with  little  distinction  and  less 
romance.  There  is  much  in  the  age  and 


A    HOMILY  v 

the  opportunity.  When  Lady  Shrews 
bury  disguises  herself  as  a  page  and  holds 
her  lover's  horse  while  he  runs  her  hus 
band  through  the  heart,  it  is  romance. 
When  Mrs.  Van  Cortland  Street  di 
vorces  her  husband  to-day  and  marries 
some  nincompoop  to-morrow,  it  is 
merely  rot — used  in  the  sense  of  cor 
ruption  and  decay.  The  morality  in 
both  instances  is  much  the  same,  with 
the  advantage  for  the  modern  husband — 
if  it  be  an  advantage — that  his  heart 
remains  physically  intact. 

Nothing,  however,  is  all  bad.  Even 
society  has  its  reason  for  existing,  best 
summed  up  in  the  nursery  saw  that 
"all  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack  a 
dull  boy. "  When  society  becomes  the 
playground  for  the  statesman,  the  writer 
and  the  painter — when  amid  the  lights 
and  the  prattle  there  is  an  occasional 
breathing  spell  for  the  idle  to  stop  and 
listen  to  the  words  of  intellect  and 
profit  thereby,  then  society  fulfills  a 


vi  A    HOMILY 

useful  purpose.  In  the  days  of  Isaac 
Watts  the  idle  born  were  depraved, 
more  so,  no  doubt,  than  we  of  to-day, 
but  they  wrote  verses  which  were  credit 
able  and  letters  which  were  readable, 
and  vied  with  each  other  in  sallies  of 
wit  and  repartee.  There  was  Halifax 
to  play  Maecenas  and  Addison  to  profit 
thereby ;  there  was  Pope  to  write  verses 
to  ' '  Wortley's  Eyes, "  and  Lady  Mary 
herself  to  love  and  quarrel  with  and 
make  the  twisted  little  poet  confess  that 
she  and  languid  Hervey  had  too  much 
wit  even  for  him.  To  be  sure,  we  have 
our  poets  in  society  to-day,  but  they 
are  managed  by  lecture  bureaus,  and 
when  they  write  verses  to  ' '  Wortley's  " 
or  anybody's  eyes,  the  copyright  is  care 
fully  secured  on  both  sides  of  the  At 
lantic. 

If  the  idle  no  longer  vie  with  each 
other  in  making  verses,  a  new  ambition, 
typical  of  the  day,  has  arisen.  It  is  to 
lead  in  extravagance.  To  be  extrava- 


A   HOMILY  vii 

gant  one  must  be  rich,  and  thus  money 
has  become  the  ' '  open  sesame  "  and  wit 
has  been  driven  to  the  wall.  Society 
naturally  has  suffered — not  in  morality, 
perhaps,  but  in  distinction — and  with 
the  new  ambition,  the  attendant  vices 
of  envy  and  malice  have  come  to  the 
fore.  This  may  be  dangerously  near 
preaching — and  there  is  an  old  proverb 
about  people  who  live  in  glass  houses — 
but,  even  at  the  risk  of  having  the 
stones  hurled  back  with  redoubled  fury, 
one  cannot  help  wishing  that  those  of 
us  who  waste  our  time  amid  the  prattle 
and  the  lights  of  modern  life  might 
have  a  little  more  charity  for  each 
other;  might  strive  for  some  better  end 
than  to  outdo  our  neighbors  in  extrava 
gance  ;  might  realize  that  women  should 
be  judged  by  some  higher  standard  than 
their  wardrobes — men  by  some  finer  at 
tribute  than  a  bank  account.  One  can't 
help  thinking  that  the  modern  world  of 
fashion — with  its  splendid  trappings  and 


viii  A   HOMILY 

its  clink  of  gold — is,  after  all,  a  tawdry 
little  sham,  where  the  finer  sentiments 
are  crushed,  and  the  all-pervading  spirit 
is  extravagance.  Perhaps  we  are  no 
better — let  us  hope  we  are  no  worse — 
than  the  idle  born  of  other  days;  but 
what  do  we  amount  to  after  all?  The 
world  moves  on  without  us,  while  good 
men  like  Isaac  Watts  silently  pray  for 
our  betterment. 

The  story  of  The  Idle  Born  which 
follows  is  a  satire  of  this  little  world  of 
fashion.  The  canvas  is  small  because 
the  people  are  small.  If  the  talk  is 
fatuous,  and  the  actions  at  times  con 
temptible,  it  is  because  to  be  straight 
forward  and  outspoken  is  to  be  serious, 
and  that  is  fatal  in  society. 

Perhaps  Lord  Chesterfield  was  right 
when  he  said  to  his  son:  "Throw 
away  none  of  your  time  upon  those 
trivial  futile  books  published  by  idle, 
necessitous  authors,  for  the  amusement 
of  idle  and  ignorant  readers."  How- 


A  HOMILY  ix 

ever,  the  life  of  the  idle  exists;  it  is 
shallow  and  petty,  no  doubt,  but  in  its 
present  form  it  is  a  product  of  the 
times.  If  Beau  Nash  no  longer  rides 
Godiva-like  upon  a  cow  his  prototype 
does  some  equally  foolish  thing;  if  there 
is  no  longer  a  King  of  Bath,  to  decree 
that  the  music  of  the  Pump-room  shall 
stop  at  eleven,  there  are  kings  and 
queens  of  other  places  to  keep  it  going 
until  dawn,  and  "Satan  finds  some 
mischief  still  for  idle  hands  to  do. " 

H.  C.  C-T. 


PART  I 
ONE  EVENING 


I 

They  are  so  linked  in  friendship. 


—Henry   VI. 


Double  drawing-rooms,  with  stiff- 
backed  chairs  and  damask  curtains,were 
not  to  Dickie  Willing's  taste.  They 
might  be  the  natural  concomitants  of 
Washington  Square  and  a  Dutch  ances 
try,  but  in  his  opinion  they  were  decid 
edly  out  of  date. 

"If  there's  a  dinner  on,  we'll  wait," 
he  said,  glancing  about  the  room  with 
a  bored  air. 

"  There's  only  Mr.  Schuyler's  nephew, 
sir,  and  Mr.  Wendell,"  answered  the 
imperturbable  servant  who  had  shown 
him  in. 

"Then  say  that  Herr  von  Bulowitz 
3 


4  THE    IDLE    BORN 

and  Mr.  Willing  are  here,"  Dickie  con 
tinued,  indifferently. 

"Very  good,  sir,"  and  the  man  van 
ished,  just  as  a  little  red-faced  German, 
with  the  proportions  of  a  pegtop, 
stumbled  over  the  door-sill,  almost 
dropping  a  violin  case  he  bore  tenderly 
in  his  arms.  He  had  little  pig-like  eyes 
and  his  hair  was  gray  and  fluffy,  like 
the  wool  of  a  Peruvian  llama.  This 
hair  was  the  maestro 's  stock-in-trade. 
It  was  that  people  came  to  see.  Inci 
dentally,  he  played  the  violin. 

Herr  von  Bulowitz  shivered.  "The 
climate  is  like  the  New  York  woman," 
he  muttered,  "beautiful,  but  damn 
cold." 

"  Therein  it  resembles  your  audi 
ences,"  answered  Dickie,  laconically. 
Then  his  eye  met  the  portrait  of  a  fat- 
faced  burgher  of  New  Amsterdam 
hanging  over  the  mantelpiece.  He 
wondered  whether  the  painting  was 
real  or  merely  the  imagery  of  the  spe 
cial  vintage  he  had  drunk  for  dinner. 

"Sir,  I  am  the  great  Von  Bulowitz," 


THE    IDLE    BORN  5 

said  the  little  German,  drawing  himself 
up  proudly.  "  The  big  public,  they 
adore  me;  but  society — bah!" 

"See  here,"  interrupted  Willing, 
"  I've  got  you  a  cool  five  hundred  for 
to-night;  so  the  less  you  kick  about  it 
the  better.  You  may  think  it's  your 
playing  people  want.  Don't  fool  your 
self;  it's  your  hair." 

"Gott  im  Himmel,  so!  I  vill  not 
play,"  exclaimed  Von  Bulowitz,  the  color 
of  his  face  changing  from  carnelian  to 
carmine. 

"  Oh,  yes  you  will,"  answered  Dickie, 
dryly;  "you  wouldn't  let  that  five  hun 
dred  get  away." 

For  a  moment  the  little  Teuton  paced 
the  floor  excitedly,  muttering  German 
oaths;  then  he  subsided  into  an  arm 
chair  and  hugged  his  violin.  Mean 
while,  Dickie  Willing  gazed  at  his  own 
reflection  in  the  pier-glass.  There  was, 
however,  little  reason  for  his  self-ap 
preciation  beyond  the  fit  of  his  clothes 
and  the  smoothness  with  which  his  hair 
was  brushed.  Dickie  lived  by  his  wits, 


6  THE    IDLE    BORN 

and  lived  well.  Once  he  had  had  some 
money.  That  he  lost  it  is  not  surpris 
ing,  but  that  he  managed  to  make  him 
self  indispensable  to  society  as  a  pur 
veyor  of  entertainments,  without  losing 
caste,  proved  that  he  had  that  rare  tact 
which  creates  popularity  for  its  possess 
or.  When  a  hostess  wished  a  novelty, 
were  it  cotillion  favors  or  virtuosi,  she 
went  to  Dickie,  and  Dickie  was  always 
ready  to  oblige  her — at  so  much  per 
idea. 

Dickie,  having  adjusted  his  tie  to 
his  satisfaction,  turned  away  from 
the  glass  with  an  air  of  self-content 
ment. 

Then  the  dining-room  doors  were 
opened  and  Nicholas  Schuyler  entered 
the  room.  How  rare  his  kind  to-day! — 
a  man  of  breeding,  born  to  wear  "  the 
grand  old  name  of  gentleman,"  in  quiet 
contrast  to  the  vulgarity  of  modern  life. 
Even  Dickie  realized  the  distinction 
that  marked  the  bearing  of  this  gray- 
haired  representative  of  the  old  school. 

"  Pardon   me,  gentlemen,  if    I   have 


THE    IDLE    BORN  7 

kept  you  waiting,"  Mr.  Schuyler  said, 
softly. 

The  little  German  jumped  to  his  feet 
and  bowed  with  exaggerated  gesture. 

"  Sir,  I  am  the  great  Von  Bulowitz,  I 
come  so  quick  because,  unless  I  fix  my 
self  just  so,  I  cannot  play.  I  am  so 
sensitive  as  my  violin." 

"You  honor  me,  sir, by  playing  in  my 
house,"  answered  the  host,  courteously. 
The  great  Von  Bulowitz  placed  his  hand 
to  his  heart  and  bowed  again. 

Two  younger  men  had  followed 
Nicholas  Schuyler  from  the  dining- 
room.  One  was  Schuyler  Ainslee,  his 
nephew,  a  frank,  careless  young  man  of 
twenty-five  or  more,  who  had  drifted 
through  the  world,  accepting  the  good 
things  of  life  as  his  due  and  overcom 
ing  the  disagreeable  by  the  exuberance 
of  youthful  spirits.  The  other  was 
Norman  Wendell,  his  most  intimate 
friend — a  young  painter,  in  whose  pale, 
delicate  face  was  an  expression  of 
earnestness,  a  desire  to  conquer  in  the 
struggle  with  the  world.  The  two  were 


8  THE    IDLE    BORN 

friends  because  of  their  opposite  na 
tures,  that  were  like  positive  and  nega 
tive  currents. 

Dickie  Willing  did  not  notice  the  new 
comers,  but,  drawing  Mr.  Schuyler 
aside,  he  whispered,  confidentially: 

"Awful  cranks,  these  musical  John 
nies.  Had  a  devil  of  a  time  getting  him 
here.  Deserve  some  credit,  what?" 

"Take  cash,  Dickie.  Nobody'd  give 
you  credit,"  laughed  young  Ainslee  at 
his  elbow. 

"But  don't  take  it  all,"  put  in 
Wendell.  Leave  some  for  Von  Bulo- 
witz." 

"  I  say,  fellows,  don't  chaff,"  protested 
Dickie.  "Can't  starve;  got  to  work, 
you  know." 

"That's  right,  Dickie,  work  every 
body  you  can,"  continued  Ainslee,  and 
he  and  Wendell  smiled  broadly  at 
Dickie's  discomfiture. 

Mr.  Schuyler  gave  his  nephew  a 
glance  of  disapproval,  and  turning  to 
the  musician,  said,  quietly,  "  I  thought 
the  back  drawing-room  would  be  the 


THE    IDLE    BORN  9 

best  place  for  the  music.  You  see, 
there'll  only  be  a  very  few  people." 

"Vat!  only  a  few  peoples  to  hear  me 
play?"  protested  the  little  German. 
"  Me,  the  great  Von  Bulowitz!  " 

"You  don't  understand,"  said  Dickie, 
hurriedly.  "  A  few  people  are  so  much 
smarter." 

"Yes,"  laughed  Ainslee.  "You  see, 
the  way  to  keep  your  social  position  in 
New  York  is  to  give  a  party  and  leave 
out  half  the  people  you  know.  Those 
who  are  there  think  they  are  society; 
those  who  are  not  immediately  invite 
you,  to  prove  they  are  not  outsiders." 

"Tut,  tut,  my  boy,"  protested  his 
uncle.  "My  house  is  small,  but  I'm 
old-fashioned.  I  hold  to  the  old  ways. 
Give  me  New  York  as  it  was." 

"And  give  me  New  York  as  it  is, 
with  all  its  glitter  and  bigness,"  ex 
claimed  the  nephew.  "  Give  me  the 
millionaires,  too,  with  their  vulgar 
wealth — they  know  how  to  spend  it; 
give  me  the  women — heartless  if  you 
like — they  know  how  to  make  them- 


io  THE    IDLE    BORN 

selves  attractive.  I  am  modern  to  my 
finger  tips,  and  proud  of  it." 

"What  heresy!"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Schuyler,  in  disgust.  "It's  enough  to 
make  your  ancestors  turn  in  their 
graves." 

"Yes?  Well,  it  won't  hurt  them  to 
move  a  little,"  replied  young  Ainslee, 
glancing  patronizingly  at  the  portraits 
on  the  walls. 

"Come,  Herr  von  Bulowitz,"  said 
Nicholas  Schuyler,  turning  away.  "  My 
nephew  is  incorrigible.  It's  the  Ainslee 
blood.  His  father  wasn't  one  of  us." 

The  German  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
because  he  did  not  understand,  and  the 
old  Knickerbocker,  glancing  at  Wen 
dell  in  despair  as  he  walked  away,  said, 
pleadingly,  "Why  don't  you  persuade 
Schuyler  to  marry?  That  would  be  his 
salvation." 

"Ainslee  married!  "  chuckled  Dickie 
Willing.  "Ha!  Rather  neat,  what?" 
But,  as  nobody  seemed  to  notice  him, 
he  meekly  followed  Mr.  Schuyler  and 
the  musician  to  the  other  room. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  u 

The  two  friends  were  left  alone. 

Wendell  looked  at  his  companion 
searchingly.  Ainslee  had  a  manly  face, 
with  clear  blue  eyes  and  high  cheek 
bones.  His  mouth  was  straight  and 
determined.  Wendell  could  not  recon 
cile  it  with  the  carelessness  of  the  man. 

"Schuyler,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "why 
do  you  throw  your  life  away?  " 

Ainslee  laughed.  "What  else  is  it 
good  for?"  he  said. 

"  I  wish  I  had  half  your  chance," 
sighed  Wendell. 

"  Humph !"  grunted  the  other.  "  Sup 
pose  I  should  do  something.  In  poli 
tics,  I'd  be  a  plutocrat;  in  literature,  a 
dilettante,  with  more  money  than 
brains;  in  business,  one  more  lamb  to 
be  fleeced.  The  world  would  never 
take  me  seriously." 

"  It  will  take  you  just  as  seriously  as 
you  take  yourself,"  protested  Wendell. 

Ainslee  glanced  at  his  friend.  "  See 
here,  old  man,"  he  said,  after  a  mo 
ment,  "because  you  paint  bad  pictures 
to  sell  to  your  friends,  does  it  give  you 


12  THE    IDLE    BORN 

the  right  to  get  up  on  a  pedestal  and 
preach?" 

"  I'm  not  preaching — I'm  only  advis 
ing  you  to  go  slow."  Wendell  said  this 
quietly,  without  attempting  to  resent 
his  companion's  imputations. 

"Oh,  I  know,"  answered  Ainslee. 
"The  pace  that  kills,  and  all  that  drivel. 
Well,  what  of  it?  I  take  the  world  as 
it  comes,  and  a  jolly  good  world  I  find 
it." 

"And,  meanwhile,  Rene'e  Dressier 
makes  a  fool  of  you." 

"If  she  didn't,  some  other  woman 
would." 

"When  inclination  has  made  a  fool, 
remorse  will  produce  a  cynic — which  is 
only  another  name  for  a  fool,"  said 
Wendell,  dryly. 

"Well,  suppose  I  do  play  with  Rene'e 
Dressier — is  that  any  of  your  affair?" 
retorted  Ainslee,  rather  angrily. 

"Yes,  when  I  am  expected  to  play 
gooseberry." 

Ainslee  poked  the  fire.  "  Can't  you 
paint  the  lady's  portrait  unless  she  sits 


THE    IDLE    BORN  13 

to  you  alone?"  he  answered,  sneering- 
ly.  "  Besides,  the  studio's  half  mine, 
anyway." 

Wendell  laughed.  "  Come,  Schuy- 
ler,"  he  replied,  "do  you  think  I  can't 
see  through  your  little  game? " 

Ainslee  put  down  the  poker  and 
looked  at  his  friend,  "  You  fatigue 
me,"  he  said.  "  Rene'e  Dressler's  no 
gosling — she  can  take  care  of  herself." 

"  And  you,  too,  for  that  matter, 
but "  " 

"Oh,  there's  a  but,  is  there?  Well, 
out  with  it." 

Wendell  paced  the  floor  thoughtful 
ly,  then  turning  suddenly,  he  said,  ear 
nestly: 

"  Well,  to  be  frank,  I  can't  stand  by 
quietly  and  see  you  treat  Margaret 
Irvington  as  you  do." 

Ainslee  laughed.  "So  that's  where 
the  shoe  pinches,"  he  said. 

"Yes;  it's  a  confounded  shame,"  con 
tinued  Wendell.  "  You  have  no  right 
to  let  any  girl  think  you're  serious." 

"What  if  lam?" 


14  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"You  serious!"  exclaimed  Wendell, 
"when  you  are  in  love  with  Rende  Dress 
ier!" 

Ainslee  looked  at  him  long  and 
searchingly.  "What  if  I  were  not?" 
he  said,  slowly.  "  What  if  I  intend  to 
marry  Margaret  Irvington — provided, 
of  course,  she'll  have  me;  what  then?" 

"Well,  God  help  her,  that's  all,"  said 
his  companion. 

"A  nice  sort  of  a  friend  you  are!" 
exclaimed  Ainslee,  with  a  gesture  of 
resentment. 

"  I'm  too  good  a  friend  not  to  wish 
to  spare  you  both  inevitable  misery." 

For  a  moment  Schuyler  Ainslee 
gazed  into  the  fire  thoughtfully. 

"  She — she's  different  from  other 
women,"  he  said,  finally.  "  She  might 
make  a  man  of  me." 

"Well,  I'm  the  last  man  to  judge 
you,"  replied  the  other,  in  a  tone  of 
despair. 

Ainslee  walked  toward  his  friend 
quickly.  "Norman,  old  chap,"  he 
said,  placing  his  hand  on  his  shoulder 


THE    IDLE    BORN  15 

and  looking  into  his  face  searchingly, 
"I  never  thought  of  it  before,  but  I 
believe  you  love  Margaret  yourself." 

Wendell  turned  away.  "Well,  what 
if  I  do?"  he  said,  shrugging  his  shoul 
ders,  resignedly. 

"Have  you  told  her?"  Ainslee 
asked,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 

"How  could  I?  What  has  a  poor 
devil  like  me  to  offer?" 

"Then  tell  her.  I've  said  nothing 
yet." 

"Do — do  you  mean  it?"  Wendell 
exclaimed. 

"Of  course,  I  mean  it.  Can  I  stand 
in  the  way  of  a  man  like  you?  No. 
Go  to  her — tell  her  the  truth.  You — 
you — owe  it  to  yourself,  and  to  her." 

Ainslee  lighted  a  cigarette  by  way  of 
disguising  his  feelings. 

"And  if  I  fail?"  asked  Wendell, 
slowly. 

"Then  it's  my  turn,"  said  his  friend, 
tossing  the  match  into  the  fire.  "  If  I 
didn't  mean  it,  I'd  say  it  was  fair 
game." 


16  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"And  if  I  succeed?"    Wendell  asked. 

"Oh,  I'll  worry  along,"  laughed 
Ainslee.  "  I  won't  die  of  the  devils. 
I'm  not  that  sort." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence. 
Wendell  paced  the  floor,  counting  me 
chanically  the  squares  in  the  rug.  Sud 
denly  he  stopped.  "And  if  I  lose,  what 
then?  What  of  the  other  woman?"  he 
asked,  anxiously. 

"There  won't  be  any,"  Ainslee  re 
plied,  calmly  sending  a  puff  of  blue 
smoke  toward  the  ceiling.  "  Whatever 
happens,  I'm  going  to  quit  right  now." 
Then,  with  a  laugh,  he  continued .  ' '  I'm 
going  to  pull  down  my  French  litho 
graphs  and  hang  up  Madonnas." 

"  Are  you  serious?  "  his  friend  asked, 
in  a  tone  of  incredulity. 

"  Yes,  perfectly — there's  my  hand  on 
it." 

The  two  men  shook  hands  quietly  as 
men  do  when  they  accept  a  wager,  or 
part  on  the  eve  of  a  battle. 

"Then  let  the  best  man  win,"  said 
Wendell,  after  a  moment's  deliberation. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  17 

"  It'll  be  you,  old  chap — I  don't  de 
serve  her,"  answered  his  friend,  cheer 
fully.  Then  he  walked  toward  the  fire 
and  threw  away  his  cigarette. 

Nicholas  Schuyler  came  into  the 
room.  He  had  left  Von  Bulowitz  and 
Willing  quarreling  over  the  proper  ar 
rangement  of  the  chairs. 

"  Well,"  he  said  to  Wendell,  "  have 
you  convinced  Schuyler  that  life's  not 
all  beer  and  skittles?" 

"  No,"  said  Wendell,  sadly.  "  Schuy 
ler  has  convinced  me  that  appearances 
are  sometimes  deceptive."  Then  he 
wandered  into  the  smoking-room. 
There  are  moments  when  a  man  wishes 
to  be  alone. 


II 

An  enemy  of  craft  and  vantage. 


—Henry  V. 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  Montgomery  Dressier, 
familiarly  known  as  "  the  Monties," 
were  the  first  of  Nicholas  Schuy- 
ler's  guests  to  materialize.  They  had 
been  yawning  by  their  own  fireside  for 
an  hour  or  more  in  order  that  they 
might  convey  the  impression  of  having 
dined  out,  but,  unfortunately,  miscalcu 
lating  the  distance  from  Fifty-fourth 
street  to  Washington  Square  by  some 
fifteen  minutes,  they  were  mortified  to 
find  themselves  the  first  arrivals. 

"My  dear  lady,"  said  the  host,  ad 
vancing  to  meet  them,  "  it  is  so  good  of 
you  to  come  early." 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  I,"  laughed  Mrs. 
Dressier,  "it  was  Monty,  silly  man. 
He  said  we'd  never  get  here." 

"  Well,  you  can't  blame  me,"  said  her 
19 


20  THE    IDLE    BORN 

offending  husband,  suppressing  a  yawn. 
"Washington  Square!  Why,  it's  as  far 
out  of  the  world  as  the  Bowery.  Why 
don't  you  move  uptown,  Schuyler?" 

"What!"  gasped  the  courtly  Knick 
erbocker.  "  Leave  Washington  Square 
— the  last  stand  of  the  '  old  guard ' 
against  Central  Park  and  the  million 
aires!  Never,  sir,  never! " 

Fortunately  the  arrival  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  Bleeker  saved  the 
situation,  else  Mr.  Schuyler's  indigna 
tion  might  have  exceeded  the  bounds 
of  politeness.  As  it  was,  he  turned 
away  from  the  young  stockbroker  ab 
ruptly,  and  with  a  very  red  face. 

Monty  Dressier  winked  at  his  wife. 
"Peppery  old  cock,"  he  laughed.  Mrs. 
Dressier  did  not  reply.  She  was  angry 
because  Schuyler  Ainslee  had  failed  to 
see  her.  He  was  still  gazing  into  the 
fire,  lost  in  contemplation  of  the  imme 
diate  future. 

"Well,  upon  my  word,"  she  said  to 
herself,  "if  he  thinks  he  can  treat  me 
like  that!" 


THE    IDLE    BORN  21 

Rende  Dressier  was  a  woman  in  whom 
sentiment  was  sterilized.  She  looked 
upon  love  much  as  a  game  of  confi 
dence  into  which  men  were  to  be  de 
liberately  decoyed  by  a  few  apparently 
successful  wins,  and  then  mercilessly 
robbed  of  their  affections  by  the  most 
subtle  methods  of  scientific  play.  Her 
beauty  was  of  a  fleshly  type,  made 
stunning  by  wavy  folds  of  Titian  hair, 
and  by  deep  brown  eyes,  that  had  a 
dreamy,  mystical  way  of  looking  into 
men's  souls;  but  her  mouth  was  cold 
and  hard — and  a  woman's  mouth  means 
everything.  Men  called  her  figure 
"divine,"  but  as  it  was  suggestive  of 
most  that  is  earthly,  the  heavenly  at 
tribute  seemed  ill-chosen.  She  was, 
nevertheless,  a  strikingly  beautiful 
creature,  perfectly  groomed,  and  per 
fectly  confident  of  her  power  to  fasci 
nate  mankind. 

As  for  "  Monty "  Dressier,  people 
endured  him  because  of  his  wife,  and 
she  endured  him  because  of  his  com 
plaisance.  He  had  the  single  advan- 


22  THE   IDLE   BORN 

tage  of  being  well  born,  if  one  can  dis 
associate  birth  from  breeding. 

Mrs.  Dressier  took  up  a  few  photo 
graphs  from  the  table  and  examined 
them  abstractedly,  meanwhile  casting 
an  occasional  side  glance  in  the  direc 
tion  of  Schuyler  Ainslee.  Monty  ap 
proached  her  quietly. 

"  There's  Ainslee,"  he  whispered. 
"  He  wants  security  for  that  loan,  and  I 
can't  give  it.  Watch  your  chance  and 
talk  him  over." 

Even  Renee  Dressier  was  shocked  at 
such  brutal  candor.  "  I've  half  a  mind 
to  tell  him  you  never  intend  to  pay," 
she  answered,  coldly. 

"Well,  I  like  that,"  sneered  Monty. 
"  Suppose  I  should  play  the  injured  hus 
band?" 

"At  least  I  should  be  rid  of  you." 

"Hush!"  he  whispered,  "he's  look 
ing."  Then  he  stole  away  quickly.while 
his  wife  arranged  a  bow  of  ribbons  on 
her  gown  with  apparent  unconscious 
ness  of  Ainslee's  approach. 

Schuyler  came  toward  her  leisurely. 


THE   IDLE   BORN  23 

He  had  awakened  from  his  revery,  but 
his  lack  of  eagerness  to  greet  her  an 
noyed  her  exceedingly. 

"  I  wondered  if  you  were  going  to 
speak  to  me,"  she  said,  resentfully,  as 
he  extended  his  hand. 

"  You  may  be  surprised,"  he  laughed, 
"  but  I  was  actually  thinking." 

"About  me?" 

"  No,  about  matrimony." 

"  How  very  immoral!"  she  laughed, 
hiding  her  face  behind  her  fan.  Then 
they  were  interrupted  by  the  arrival 
of  the  aggressive  Mrs.  Jones-Smythe 
and  her  simpering  daughter,  Mabel. 
Mrs.  Jones-Smythe's  voice  was  a 
bar  to  conversation  in  her  immedi 
ate  vicinity,  so  Schuyler  and  his  com 
panion  sought  refuge  in  a  far-off  cor 
ner. 

"  So  good  of  you  to  come,"  said  Mr. 
Schuyler,  as  he  greeted  the  newcom 
ers. 

"And  so  good  of  you  to  ask  us,"  an 
swered  Mrs.  Jones-Smythe,  with  an  em- 
pressement  of  manner  that  would  have 


24  THE    IDLE    BORN 

done  honor  to  the  cook  of  a  Grand 
Duchess.  "  Mabel  adores  music,  don't 
you,  dear?" 

"Yes,  mamma,''  replied  the  daughter, 
with  a  kittenish  smile. 

"You  know  Mabel  plays  Chopin 
charmingly,"  pursued  the  mother,  much 
to  the  annoyance  of  her  host,  who  had 
invited  her  only  because  the  late  Mr. 
Jones-Smythe  had  been  his  room-mate 
at  college.  "  It  will  be  such  a  treat  for 
the  dear  child,"  she  continued.  "  We 
gave  up  a  dinner  at  Mrs.  Egerton's  so 
that  she  should  not  miss  this  lovely 
music." 

"  Mrs.  Egerton's,"  grunted  Monty 
Dressier  to  himself.  "  It's  odds  on  she 
was  never  in  the  house.  Wonder  how 
she  got  here?" 

At  this  moment  the  curtains  separat 
ing  the  drawing-rooms  were  thrown 
back,  disclosing  the  great  Von  Bulowitz 
in  theatric  pose. 

Mrs.  Jones-Smythe  gasped  with  de 
light.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Dressier,  do  tell  me," 
she  said  to  the  unfortunate  Monty  who 


THE    IDLE    BORN  25 

had  not  had  time  to  escape,  "  is  that 
Herr  von  Bulowitz?" 

"Yes,  that's  his  nibs,  all  right;  Zulu 
hair  and  all." 

Her  red  face  assumed  an  expression 
of  horror.  "  How  can  you  be  so  disre 
spectful  to  art?"  she  protested. 

"  Because  I  bar  a  chap  who  won't  get 
his  hair  cut." 

"To  me  he  is  divine,"  she  answered, 
so  loudly  that  she  might  have  been 
heard  in  Eighth  street.  Then,  turning 
to  her  host,  she  continued:  "  Do  intro 
duce  me  to  the  maestro'' 

"With  pleasure,"  murmured  Mr.Schuy- 
ler,  though  the  truth  of  his  remark  was 
questionable.  So  Mrs.  Jones-Smythe 
swept  proudly  toward  the  great  Von 
Bulowitz,  her  dress  crackling  at  every 
step,  and  her  daughter  Mabel  fluttering 
in  her  wake. 

Meanwhile,  Ainslee  had  been  telling 
Renee  Dressier,  in  a  blunt,  straightfor 
ward  way,  that  he  was  weary  of  the  life 
he  had  been  leading,  and  could  see 
nothing  but  misery  if  the  false  relation- 


26  THE    IDLE    BORN 

ship  they  had  established  should  con 
tinue.  He  was  ashamed  of  the  part  he 
had  played,  but  so  far  it  had  been  only 
a  flirtation — thanks  to  her  cleverness — 
with  nothing  serious  to  regret.  He  was 
too  sincere  not  to  explain  the  case 
frankly,  and  she  was  too  confident  of 
her  own  power  to  consider  the  situation 
dangerous.  Men  were  always  cautious 
when  they  were  afraid — and  to  be  afraid 
of  her  meant  an  unconditional  surren 
der  in  the  end,  if  the  cards  were  properly 
played. 

"  So  you're  contemplating  matri 
mony?"  she  said,  with  a  cynical  smile. 

"  Why  not  ?"  he  answered. 

"Humph!  That's  the  way  a  stupid 
man  always  ends  an  affair.  He  marries 
some  little  minx  to  pet  him  and  darn 
his  stockings,  and  flatters  himself  he's 
virtuous — until  he  falls  in  love  again." 

Those  deep,  mysterious  eyes  forced  a 
confession,  even  against  his  will.  "Men 
love  women  like  you  in  spite  of  them 
selves,"  he  said,  his  voice  trembling  as 
he  spoke. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  27 

"  Until  we're  foolish  enough  to 
care,"  she  laughed.  "  A  man  in  love 
is  like  the  baby  in  the  advertise 
ment — he  won't  be  happy  till  he  gets 
it." 

"  If  I  .thought  you  had  ever  cared 
for " 

"  Of  course,"  she  answered,  sarcasti 
cally,  "a  woman  never  cares;  it's  only 
men  who  are  brave  and  self-sacrificing 
— only  men  who  love." 

Ainslee  smiled.  "  Then  you  won't 
find  it  difficult  to  forget  ?" 

"  That  will  be  the  easiest  part  of  it." 

"Well,  we've  played  the  game,"  he 
sighed. 

"  And  it  wasn't  worth  the  candle." 

"Yes.  If  you  weren't  an  American 
we'd  have  eloped  long  ago." 

"  I  fail  to  see  the  point,"  she  said.with 
a  show  of  interest. 

"  For  once  you  are  dense.  In  Europe 
women  have  hearts;  in  America  merely 
intellects." 

She  shrugged  her  pretty  shoulders  un 
concernedly.  "  Well  ?"  she  said. 


28  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  I  gave  you  the  chance,"  he  replied. 
"You  remember  my  letter." 

"I'm  not  a  fool." 

"The  game  is  give  and  take — not  soli 
taire." 

"  Patience  is  the  game  a  man  should 
play." 

"Indeed!"  he  answered,  coldly.  "For 
me  it  must  be  all  or  nothing." 

"  Then  marry  your  little  minx,"  she 
said,  with  a  gesture  of  indifference. 

"  Precisely  what  I  intend  to  do," 
he  replied,  plunging  his  hands  into 
his  pockets  and  settling  himself  com 
fortably  in  his  chair,  as  if  a  great 
weight  had  been  lifted  from  his 
mind. 

Renee  glared  at  him  angrily.  "  If 
you  dare!"  she  said. 

"  Is  that  a  challenge  ?"  he  asked,  look 
ing  up  at  the  ceiling  with  a  forced  en 
deavor  to  appear  unconcerned.  He  was 
afraid  to  meet  her  eyes  again,  for  fear 
of  wavering. 

"Yes,  it  is  a  challenge,"  she  said,  ris 
ing  from  her  seat  and  carefully  arrang- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  29 

ing  the  folds  of  her  gown.  "  Go,  if  you 
wish — you'll  be  back  in  a  week." 

"  Never,"  he  cried. 

"How  absurd  you  are,"  she  mur 
mured.  "Melodrama  always  did  bore 
me." 

She  hummed  a  few  bars  of  a  popular 
song,  while  Ainslee  glared  at  a  spot  on 
the  rug. 

"  My  fan,  if  you  please,"  she  said,  fi 
nally,  with  a  gesture  toward  the  table. 
He  handed  her  the  fan.  She  took  it 
carelessly  and  tapped  her  fingers  with 
the  mother-of-pearl  handle. 

"  Schuyler,"  she  said,  suddenly. 

"  Yes." 

"Women  are  curious  creatures — we 
don't  forget  as  easily  as  men  do,  and — 
and  we  usually  get  even  in  the  end." 

"Well?"  he  asked. 

"  Remember  it,  that's  all,"  she  purred. 
Then  she  walked  toward  the  other  draw 
ing-room,  where  Von  Bulowitz  was  tun 
ing  his  violin  amid  the  clatter  of  many 
voices.  Ainslee  plunged  his  hands  into 
his  pockets  again  and  set  his  teeth. 


30  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Then  he  sighed  and  took  a  step  toward 
the  fire.  "  It's  over,"  he  thought,  "for 
better  or  for  worse." 

Nicholas  Schuyler,  seeing  Mrs.  Dress 
ier  was  alone,  came  toward  her  and  of 
fered  his  arm.  "  Permit  me,  my  dear 
lady,"  he  said,  with  old-time  courtesy. 
Noticing  his  nephew,  he  continued, 
sharply/'Schuyler,  where  are  your  man 
ners?" 

"  Gone  to  the  devil  with  my  morals," 
answered  the  young  man  gruffly. 

"  Poor  boy,  don't  disturb  him,"  inter 
rupted  Mrs.  Dressier,  pitingly;  "he's  con-, 
templating  matrimony." 

Ainslee  slammed  the  door  of  the 
smoking-room  in  a  way  that  was  ex 
pressive  of  his  feelings. 

"  Why,"  exclaimed  his  uncle,  in  sur 
prise,  "  I  thought  Schuyler  was  in  love 
with  you." 

"With  me?"  she  laughed.  "Oh,  dear, 
no;  he's  in  love  with  himself." 


Ill 

We  are  the   Queen's  subjects,   and   must  obey. 

—Richard  III. 

A  well-trained  servant  has  a  way  of 
accentuating  the  importance  of  a  guest 
by  the  precision  with  which  the  name 
is  announced,  therefore  it  was  with  par 
ticular  emphasis  that  Mr.  Schuyler's 
butler  heralded  the  arrival  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs  and  Mr.  Beacher. 

"Ah,"  exclaimed  the  host,  as  he  and 
Mrs.  Dressier  turned  instinctively  at  the 
sound  of  the  exalted  names,  "the  queen 
of  diamonds." 

"  Escorted,  as  usual,  by  the  knave  of 
hearts  and  the  deuce  of  spades,"  said 
his  companion  sotto  voce,  as  a  blaze  of 
feminine  magnificence  swept  into  the 
room,  followed  by  the  exquisite  warden 
of  her  fan  and  scent-bottle  and  the  hum 
ble  bearer  of  her  family  burdens.  The 
air  of  superiority  assumed  by  Mrs. Ferry 
31 


32  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Dobbs,  on  this  and  all  occasions,  was 
worthy  of  an  empress;  but  an  empress 
can  afford  to  be  modest  and  gracious 
because  she  is  sure  of  her  position.  Not 
so  with  a  queen  of  society  in  the  bor 
ough  of  Manhattan;  her  motto  is  malice 
toward  all,  condescension  to  none. 
Some  day  the  little  world  between  Gra- 
mercy  and  Central  Parks  and  there 
abouts  may  discover  that  it  is  the  heart 
and  not  the  wardrobe  that  makes  a  wo 
man,  but  meanwhile  Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs 
and  her  diamonds  reign  supreme,  and 
the  mammonitesbow  before  their  queen. 
Even  the  courtly  Nicholas  Schuyler 
beamed  in  the  golden  effulgence  of  her 
presence,  and  felt  flattered  in  his  inmost 
heart  at  this  honor  to  his  modest  party. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Dobbs,"  he  said,  with 
unfeigned  eagerness,  "  I  was  so  afraid 
you  were  not  coming." 

"  Oh,  really!"  the  queen  replied,  with 
a  gesture  toward  the  faithful  Beacher. 
A  jeweled  scent-bottle  was  forthcoming, 
which  she  sniffed  disdainfully. 

'*  Yes,"  continued  Mr.  Schuyler;  "y°u 


THE    IDLE    BORN  33 

know  a  party  without  you  is  like — is  like 
— "  and  then  he  was  lost  for  a  simile. 

Mrs.  Dressier  saw  her  opportunity. 
"A  party  without  you,  Mrs.  Dobbs,"  she 
interrupted,  suavely,  "is  like  a  watch 
without  a  mainspring — it  won't  go." 

"  Oh,  really!"  and  Mrs.  Dobbs  actually 
smiled. 

"  Fancy  aparty  without  Mrs.  Dobbs!" 
said  Bertie  Beacher,  as  he  exchanged 
the  royal  smelling-bottle  for  the  royal 
fan. 

"  Perhaps,  Mr.  Beacher,  when  you 
have  time,"  suggested  the  host,  "you 
will  condescend  to  speak  to  me." 

"  Why,  Schuyler,  you  there  ?"  drawled 
Beacher.  "  Really,  I  didn't  see  you." 

"Of  course  not;  the  host  is  the  last 
person  one  notices  nowadays." 

This  was  too  subtle  for  the  intellect 
of  Bertie  Beacher.  He  had  semi-an 
nual  importations  of  clothes  from  "  the 
other  side"  and  the  preference  of  Mrs. 
Ferry  Dobbs,  and  naturally  mankind 
was  envious;  so  Nicholas  Schuyler's 
sarcasm  was  accepted  as  a  flattering 


34  THE    IDLE    BORN 

demonstration  of  jealousy.  However, 
Dickie  Willing's  arrival  on  the  scene 
prevented  further  word-play.  This  per 
sonage  had  been  holding  Von  Bulowitz 
in  abeyance  in  the  hope  that  Mrs.  Ferry 
Dobbs,  or,  at  least,  Mrs.  Egerton.would 
arrive  and  save  the  party  from  the  taint 
of  the  Jones-Smythes. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Dobbs,"  he  cried,  with  sat 
isfaction,  "  I'm  so  glad  you've  come. 
Now  the  music  can  begin." 

"Oh,  really!"  answered  Mrs.  Dobbs, 
wearily. 

"  Fancy  music  without  Mrs*  Dobbs," 
said  Bertie  Beacher,  as  he  deferentially 
exchanged  the  royal  fan  for  a  pocket- 
handkerchief.  Then,  as  there  was  a 
manifest  pause  in  the  edifying  conver 
sation,  he  addressed  the  host.  "  I  say, 
Schuyler,  when's  the  Johnny  going  to 
fiddle  ?" 

"We  are  Only  waiting  for  Mrs.  Dobbs," 
answered  the  host,  quietly,  without  be 
traying  his  disgust. 

"  Oh,  really!"  said  Mrs.  Dobbs,  lan 
guidly. 


THE     IDLE    BORN  35 

And,  meanwhile,  where  was  Dobbs  ? 
The  butler  had  announced  his  name, 
and  he  had  followed  meekly  in  the  swash 
of  the  royal  party,  stumbling  awkwardly 
over  a  panther's  head  by  the  door.  But 
nobody  noticed  his  mortification,  and 
nobody  noticed  him,  thin,  sallow,  little 
man  that  he  was.  He  slunk  into  a  cor 
ner  to  pull  his  gray  whiskers  and  twitch 
his  eyes,  like  a  frightened  mouse  caught 
in  a  trap.  But  he  was  only  Ferry 
Dobbs,  President  of  the  Trans-Missis 
sippi  Railway  System  and  the  Beet  Su 
gar  Trust.  So  why  should  people  both 
er  about  him? 

A  reverential  hush  fell  upon  the 
gathering  in  the  back  drawing-room  as 
the  resplendent  queen  appeared  in  the 
doorway.  While  taking  the  proffered 
seat  of  honor  she  glanced  at  the  ever- 
faithful  Bertie  in  a  way  indicative  of  a 
desire.  The  scent-bottle  and  fan  were 
carefully  deposited  in  her  lap,  and  then 
the  cavaliere  servente  hastened  in  search 
of  the  lost  object.  He  found  him  in  a 
far-off  corner  hiding  behind  a  newspa- 


36  THE    IDLE    BORN 

per,  vainly  hoping  he  had  been  forgot 
ten.  Alas,  for  the  schemes  of  Ferry 
Dobbs  to  escape  detection.  The  vigi 
lant  Bertie  brushed  aside  the  folds  of 
the  Evening  Post  and  tapped  him  on  the 
shoulder. 

"Wake  up,  Dobbs;  you're  wanted!" 
was  the  ruthless  command  that  aroused 
the  little  financier  from  his  revery  and 
caused  him  to  amble  meekly  by  the  side 
of  Bertie  Beacher  toward  the  back 
drawing-room. 

Already  the  strains  of  Von  Bulowitz's 
Stradivarius  were  resonant,  and  poor 
Ferry  Dobbs  trembled  at  his  fate. 

Not  so  the  wily  Dickie  Willing.  Hav 
ing  started  the  maestro  on  his  fell  ca 
reer,  he  stole  quietly  through  the  cur 
tains  and  almost  fell  into  the  arms  of 
Renee  Dressier. 

"  Come,  Dickie,"  she  said,  taking  the 
impresario  gently  but  firmly  by  the  coat 
sleeve  and  turning  him  about,  "  face  the 
music." 

"Don't  have  to,"  chuckled  Dickie;  "I 
furnished  it." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  37 

"  Pity  you  can't  furnish  yourself." 

"With  what?" 

"  Brains,  dear  boy,"  she  murmured, 
sweetly,  as  she  disappeared  between 
the  curtains. 

"  Don't  need  'em  in  society,"  he 
called  after  her.  Then,  with  evident 
self-appreciation,  he  giggled,  "  Ha ! 
Rather  neat,  what?"  But,  as  no  one 
was  there  to  applaud  his  witticism,  he 
sauntered  lazily  toward  the  smoking- 
room  door  and  collided  with  Norman 
Wendell. 

"Hello,  Normy,"  he  said.  "  Music's 
on — better  hurry." 

"  No;  I'm  in  no  mood  for  music  to 
night,"  Wendell  answered,  dejectedly, 
and  Dickie  Willing  stared,  unable  to 
comprehend  that  a  man  could  have 
feelings  to  betray. 

He  was  on  the  point  of  chaffing 
Wendell,  when  the  music  suddenly 
ceased. 

"Hello!  what's  up?"  Dickie  ex 
claimed,  visions  of  a  fiasco  disturbing 
the  equanimity  of  his  soul.  Wendell 


38  THE    IDLE    BORN 

was  too  absorbed  with  his  own  misery 
to  vouchsafe  a  reply;  but  before  Dickie 
could  reach  the  scene  of  action  Bertie 
Beacher  appeared  between  the  curtains, 
an  expression  of  horror  on  his  usually 
vacuous  countenance. 

"  I  say,  fellows,"  he  cried,  "  that  long 
haired  idiot  stopped  playing  because 
Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs  was  talking." 

"  He  deserves  a  medal  if  he  can 
make  her  talk,"  Wendell  muttered, 
laconically. 

"Ha!  Rather  neat,  what?"  giggled 
Dickie  Willing,  much  to  the  horror 
of  the  faithful  Beacher,  while  a  new 
comer,  in  the  person  of  Monty  Dress 
ier,  bored  beyond  endurance,  joined 
the  trio. 

"  Damn!  I  can't  stand  that  noise,"  he 
grumbled,  and  then,  in  a  tone  that  gave 
expression  to  his  desires,  he  whimpered, 
plaintively:  "  I  say,  fellows,  my  tongue's 
hanging  out." 

"  I  know  where  the  old  boy  keeps  his 
rum,"  whispered  Dickie.  "  Let's  make 
a  sneak." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  39 

"  Well,  rather,"  exclaimed  the  thirsty 
Monty.  "  You've  saved  my  life.' 

"  Come  on,  Norman,"  cried  Dickie, 
seizing  Wendell's  arm  and  dragging 
him  toward  the  smoking-room. 

"  No  thanks,"  muttered  Wendell,  dis 
engaging  his  arm. 

"  Oh,  he's  on  the  water-wagon," 
sneered  Monty.  "  Come  on,  Bertie." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Beacher,  with 
the  air  of  a  tragedy  queen  ;  "  desert 
Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs?  Never!"  Then, 
in  pursuance  of  his  duty,  he  strode 
toward  the  other  room,  leaving  his 
thirsty  friends  to  wend  .their  way  to 
gether. 

Thus  Norman  Wendell  was  left  alone 
again  to  ruminate  on  the  strange  fatal 
ity  that  brought  him  face  to  face  with 
the  crisis  of  his  life.  "  Would  she 
come?"  he  wondered, one  vision  always 
before  him.  "  Were  eyes  ever  so  blue 
and  tender?"  he  asked  himself,  "or  a 
voice  so  soft?  Was  ever  so  beautiful  a 
face  crowned  by  such  matchless  hair — 
was  ever  a  mouth  so  sweet — was  ever 


40  THE    IDLE    BORN 

woman  so  divinely  graceful?"  Then 
he  laughed  at  his  lover's  enthusiasm 
and  paced  the  floor  again,  wondering — 
always  wondering.  "  Ah,  well, "  he 
sighed  at  last,  "  a  fool  falls  in  love,  and 
a  wise  man  gets  over  it — if  he  can." 


IV 

If  love  be  blind,  love  cannot  hit  the  mark 

— Romeo  and  Juliet. 

The  waiting  seemed  to  him  an  age, 
but  the  applause  that  greeted  Von 
Bulowitz's  first  number  had  barely  died 
away  when  Wendell  was  startled  by  the 
rustle  of  a  gown.  He  turned,  instinct 
ively  knowing  it  was  Margaret  Irving- 
ton.  To  explain  that  intuition  would 
be  to  solve  the  mystery  of  love. 

"  How  late  you  are,"  he  said;  "I  have 
been  waiting  for  you." 

She  gave  him  her  hand  and  smiled, 
"  I  was  detained — I  could  not  get  away 
from  dinner.  But  why  wait  for  me?  " 

Had  he  been  less  in  love  he  might 
have  realized  that  she  said  this  with  no 
special  interest  beyond  the  kindliness 
due  from  an  old  and  sincere  friend. 
But  that  tall,  dark-haired  girl,  with  the 
tender  blue  eyes,  carelessly  buttoning 
41 


42  THE    IDLE    BORN 

her  glove,  was  to  him  the  most  radiantly 
beautiful  creature  in  the  whole  wide 
world.  He  could  not  analyze  nor 
argue;  he  could  only  gaze  and  blunder 
forth  in  a  stupid  way  the  reason  for  his 
being  there.  ' 

"  I  waited  because  I  wanted  to  talk  to 
you;  because  there  is  something  I  must 
say  to  you  to-night." 

She  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 
"  Why,  Norman,"  she  answered,  "  how 
mysterious  you  are,  and  how  serious, 
too."  Then  she  hesitated,  for  there 
was  something  in  his  glance  that  startled 
her.  "  Come,"  she  said,  cheerfully,  "  let 
us  hear  the  music.  What  you  have  to 
say  isn't  so  very  pressing,  is  it?  " 

"Yes,  forgive  me  if  I  insist."  He 
quietly  placed  a  chair  beside  her. 
"  Won't  you  be  seated  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I 
shan't  detain  you  long." 

She  took  the  chair  reluctantly  and 
waited  for  him  to  speak.  But  words 
failed  him. 

"  Come,"  she  said, "  what  is  it  ?  Have 
you  committed  murder,  or  been  sued 


THE    IDLE    BORN  43 

for  libel  for  your  latest  portrait?  I  know 
it  must  be  something  very  serious." 
Her  tone  was  almost  flippant,  and  it 
made  her  ashamed,  for  she  had  not 
meant  to  hurt  him.  "  Well,"  she  said, 
finally,  in  a  way  that  gave  him  cour 
age. 

"  I  hardly  know  how  to  begin,"  he 
sighed.  Then  he  smiled  at  his  own 
awkwardness. 

"Dear  me,"  she  laughed,  "this  is 
more  serious  than  I  thought,  Norman. 
Why,  you  must  be  in  love!  Tell  me 
who  is  she?  Surely  you  can  trust  an 
old  friend." 

"  Friend"  he  said,  bitterly,  "  I  detest 
the  word." 

Margaret  now  began  to  divine  the 
portent  of  his  remarks,  and  tried  to  turn 
him  from  his  purpose. 

"  You  ought  not  to  detest  me,"  she 
said,  laughingly,  "We've  known  each 
other  too  long.  Why,  we  used  to  make 
mud  pies  together! " 

Wendell  looked  into  her  eyes  long 
and  earnestly.  "  Yes,"  he  said,  "it 


44  THE    IDLE    BORN 

seems  as  if  I  had  always  known  you. 
Do  you  remember  that  day  in  the 
country,  so  long  ago,  when  we  were 
playing  in  the  hay,  and  I  told  you  that 
I  loved  you — that  I  should  always  love 
you?" 

"  Yes,  I  remember.  I — I  cried — then 
I  kissed  you;  but  we  were  only  children 
then."  Tears  filled  her  eyes. 

"  And  if  I  were  to  tell  you,"  he  said, 
earnestly,  "  that  I  have  loved  you  every 
day,  every  hour  since  then?" 

Margaret  trembled.  "  Oh,  Norman," 
she  pleaded,  "  two  such  old  friends  as 
we  are — why,  that  could  not  be." 

"  Couldn't  it?  "  he  answered,  eagerly. 
"Why  not?" 

She  took  his  hand  and  held  it  tightly. 
"Norman,  can't  you  see?"  she  said. 
"  Don't  make  me  tell  you  in  so  many 
words." 

He  drew  his  hand  away.  "  Don't 
say  any  more,"  he  said,  with  an  effort. 
"  I  understand." 

"  And  you  won't  think  less  of  me? " 

"  I  only  wish  I  could." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  45 

"Don't  say  that,"  she  begged.  "  Don't 
make  it  harder  for  me." 

Wendell  looked  at  her  curiously. 
"  How  beautiful  you  are,"  he  said. 
"  Does  it  make  you  happy  to  be  abso 
lutely  beautiful — to  be  absolutely  cer 
tain  of  your  power? " 

"  What  a  strange  question!  "  she  an 
swered,  in  astonishment. 

"Is  it?  I — I  was  thinking  of  your 
future." 

"  My  future." 

"  Yes.  I  was  wondering  what  he  will 
be  like,  the — the  man  whom  you  will 
marry." 

"Shall  I  tell  you,"  she  said,  suddenly, 
looking  up  into  his  face. 

"Yes,"  he  answered.  "  I  have  a  reason 
for  wishing  to  know." 

Margaret  turned  away  thoughtfully, 
"  He  will  be  a  man,"  she  said,  slowly, 
"  every  inch  of  him — careless  and  im 
petuous,  if  you  like,  but  considerate 
enough  to  treat  me  like  a  good  fellow 
and  an  equal.  He  will  make  me  feel 
that  I  can  help  him  and  be  of  some 


46  THE    IDLE    BORN 

use  to  him  in  his  daily  life.  He  will 
never  let  me  know  that  I  own  him  body 
and  soul,  and  he  will  never  tell  me  I  am 
the  only  woman  he  has  ever  loved. 
There — that  is  the  sort  of  man  I  shall 
marry." 

"  You  have  answered  my  question," 
he  answered,  quietly.  He  was  think 
ing  of  a  man  whose  portrait  she  had 
seemed  to  draw.  Margaret  left  her 
seat  and  walked  slowly  away.  Then 
she  turned  swiftly  and  came  toward 
him. 

"Do  you  think  I  am  heartless?"  she 
asked. 

"  I  think  I  shall  always  worship  you," 
he  answered,  sadly. 

She  placed  a  hand  upon  his  arm.  "  I 
care  for  you  a  great  deal,  Norman," 
she  said.  "Do — do  you  want  me  to 
marry  you?" 

He  looked  into  her  eyes  searchingly. 
"  No,"  he  said,  with  an  effort. 

She  turned  away.  "  I  understand," 
she  answered;  "believe  me,  I  do." 

"  Then  we  will  forget,  and  only  re- 


THE    IDLE     BORN  47 

member  that  we  are  the  same  old 
friends." 

"  Always  that,"  she  said,  impulsively. 
"  I  could  not  bear  to  have  it  otherwise." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence. 
Each  was  thinking;  she  of  the  past,  he 
of  the  future — as  if  there  could  be  a 
future,  now. 

"  And  the  music,  Margaret,"  he  said, 
finally.  "We  mustn't  miss  it  all." 

They  walked  together  toward  the 
other  room,  where  the  deep-toned 
strains  of  Tristan's  dying  love-song 
came  softly  from  the  touch  of  a  master 
hand.  He  drew  back  the  curtain  for 
her  to  pass. 

"  Believe  me,"  she  whispered,  softly, 
"  it  is  better  so." 

"  For  you — yes." 


V 

A  weak,  poor,  innocent  lamb. 


— Macbeth, 


"  So  Freddie  Carroll  waited  an  hour 
at  the  stage  door,  and  she  was  with  you 
all  the  time!"  laughed  Monty  Dressier, 
as  he  strode  through  the  smoking-room 
door  arm  in  arm  with  Dickie  Willing. 
Their  thirst  was  appeased,  and  the 
world  was  rose-colored. 

"  Ha!  Rather  neat,  what?!'  chuckled 
Dickie,  at  the  thought  of  Freddie 
Carroll's  discomfiture.  Then  seeing 
that  his  friend  was  headed  straight  for 
the  shrine  of  Apollo,  in  the  incarnation 
of  Von  Bulowitz,  he  laughed  derisively. 

"What,  more  music?" 

"Got  to,"  replied  Monty,  meekly. 
"  The  missis,  you  know." 

"  Don't  string  me,"  said  Dickie  with  a 
wink.  "Who's  the  girl?" 

"  Come  along  and  I'll  show  you,"  said 
49 


50  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Monty,  trying  to  drag  his  friend  in  the 
way  he  would  have  him  go. 

Dickie,  however,  had  no  desire  to  be 
caught  in  any  such  trap.  He  planted 
his  feet  stubbornly  and  refused  to 
move. 

"No,  sir,"  he  protested.  "No  Von 
Bulowitz  for  me.  I  delivered  the  goods 
—that's  all  I'm  paid  for." 

Whereupon  Monty  was  obliged  to 
wend  his  way  alone — not  to  the  "  missis," 
but  to  the  side  of  the  particular  charmer 
with  whom  he  was  for  the  time  being 
engaged  in  "  frivoling." 

Dickie  Willing,  left  alone,  began  to 
philosophize.  His  reasoning  was  not 
deep,  but  it  was  to  the  point,  consider 
ing  his  dilapidated  finances. 

"Why  isn't  old  Schuyler  my  uncle?" 
he  mused,  gazing  at  the  Dutch  ances 
tors  that  adorned  the  walls.  "  Ainslee's 
got  his  coffers  full  already,  while  I — 
well,  the  luck  some  fellows  have!" 
Then  he  beheld  a  vision  of  loveliness 
that  made  him  rub  his  eyes.  A  young 
girl  with  the  golden  curls  of  innocence 


THE    IDLE     BORN  51 

had  stolen  into  the  room  and  was  cau 
tiously  peering  through  the  curtains  at 
the  great  Von  Bulowitz. 

Dickie  perked  his  head  in  his  most 
winning  way  and  tip-toed  toward  her. 

"  Hello,  prettiness,"  he  whispered  in 
a  little  pink  ear. 

With  a  smothered  exclamation  she 
darted  away,  but  Dickie  was  not  to  be 
escaped  by  any  such  manoeuvre.  He 
stepped  before  her  and  barred  her 
passage. 

"  Don't  be  frightened,"  he  said,  re 
assuringly.  "  I  won't  bite." 

"  But  I  can't  talk  to  you,"  answered 
the  girl,  naively.  "  I  don't  know  you." 

"  Never  mind,  I  know  you,"  he 
laughed. 

"  But  papa  would  scold  me,"  she  pro 
tested.  "  I'm  not  out  yet-  How  dare 
you  speak  to  me?  " 

"  Because  you're  just  about  the  pret 
tiest  thing  I  ever  saw." 

"And  you're  perfectly  horrid,"  she 
pouted,  stamping  her  little  foot.  "  So 
there!" 


S2  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  I'm  horrid,  am  I,"  said  Dickie  in  a 
tone  of  disapprobation. 

"  Don't  believe  I  like  you  after  all. 
Go  to  bed,  little  girl — go  to  bed,"  he 
continued,  with  a  deprecating  wave  of 
his  hand. 

"Well,  I  never!  How  old  do  you 
suppose  I  am?" 

"  Look  seventeen,"  he  chuckled. 
"  act  seven,  general  average,  twelve. 
Ha!  Rather  neat,  what?  " 

"  I — I  hate  you,"  she  cried,  her  face 
crimson  with  rage. 

"  Never  did  have  any  luck,"  he 
drawled  mournfully.  "You  hate  me 
— I  think  you're  the  nicest  ever — we're 
up  against  it.  What  are  you  going  to 
do  about  it?" 

"  I'm  going  to  leave  you  right  now," 
she  answered,  with  an  indignant  toss  of 
her  head,  "and  I  hope  I'll  never  see 
you  again." 

"  You'll  have  to  see  me  when  you're 
out,  he  laughed,  barring  her  way  again. 
"You'll  never  get  on  unless  you're  nice 
to  me.  I  lead  all  the  cotillions.  I'm 


THE    IDLE    BORN  53 

Dickie  Willing.  Everybody  knows 
me." 

"  I  don't,"  she  answered,  with  a  sneer 
on  her  pretty  lips.  I  don't  believe  you 
know  me." 

"  Rather.  I  know  everybody.  You're 
little  Eveline  Schuyler.  Papa's  darling, 
brought  up  in  a  convent  so  you  won't 
be  spoiled.  Oh,  I'm  not  such  a  fool  as 
I  look." 

"  Aren't  you  really?  "  she  replied  with 
a  stare  of  amazement,  which  was  cal 
culated  to  make  him  feel  decidedly 
small. 

"  No,  honest,"  Dickie  said,  straight 
ening  himself  and  assuming  an  attitude 
of  dignity.  "  I  could  teach  you  a  lot." 

"Could  you?"  she  answered,  sol 
emnly,  but  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  her 
big  blue  eyes.  "  You  don't  look  as  if 
you  knew  anything.  How  would  you 
begin?" 

Dickie  swelled  his  chest  imposingly. 
"  By  making  love  to  you,"  he  murmured, 
with  his  most  fetching  smile. 

"  Oh,  how  nice!  "  she  exclaimed  with 


54  THE    IDLE    BORN 

evident  relish.     "  And  how  would  you 
end?" 

"  By  making  love  to  someone  else." 

"How  horrid!" 

"  But  it  would  teach  you  a  lot.  I  say, 
do  you  read  French?" 

"Of  course,"  she  said,  indignantly. 

Dickie  laughed.  "  Then  I'll  send  you 
some  novels." 

"  But  papa  won't  let  you,"  she  pro 
tested.  "He  says  the  world  is  a  very 
wicked  place.  I  must  never  know  any 
thing  about  it  until  I  come  out." 

"  By  Jove,"  he  cried  longingly,  "  what 
a  time  you'll  have  learning." 

"Oh,  I  hope  so.  Just  think!  Next 
winter  I'm  going  to  dances  and  dinner 
parties!  " 

"Then  you've  no  time  to  lose,"  he 
chuckled.  "  I'll  send  you  the  books 
to-morrow.  Let's  see,"  he  continued, 
with  mock  gravity — " '  Madame  Bo- 
vary,'  '  Sapho,'  'Nana'and — '  Aphrodite' 
— no,  you'd  better  not  have  that  to 
begin  with." 

But   the   wickedness   of  his  remark 


THE    IDLE    BORN  55 

was  lost  on  Eveline,  for  the  austere 
form  of  her  father  appeared  between 
the  curtains. 

"There's  papa,"  she  whispered, 
"  Don't  let  him  see  me,"  and,  quick  as  a 
flash,  she  dropped  behind  the  back  of  a 
big  chair,  while  Willing,  with  chivalrous 
intent,  rapidly  placed  himself  in  a  way 
to  cover  her  retreat. 

"Sneak!"  he  whispered,  as  Nicholas 
Schuyler,  quite  unconscious  of  the 
situation,  approached  the  fire. 

"Sir,  did  you  address  me?"  said  the 
elder  man,  testily. 

"  I,  sir  ?  No,  sir,"  blurted  Dickie, 
much  taken  aback.  "  I  was  admiring 
that  picture,"  he  continued,  hurriedly, 
pointing  to  a  solemn  burgher  over  the 
mantelpiece,  with  the  idea  of  diverting 
Schuyler's  attention.  "  Fine  old  cock, 
that." 

"  That  gentleman,  sir,"  exclaimed  the 
host,  indignantly,  "was  my  ancestor, 
Peter  Van  Cortland,  one  of  the  '  nine 
men*  of  New  Amsterdam  in  1647." 

"  By  Jove,  what  a  nose! "  cried  Dickie, 


56  THE    IDLE    BORN 

admiringly.  "Did  he  die  of  drink?" 
The  host  looked  at  the  picture  to  see  if 
Dickie's  insulting  insinuation  was  justi 
fied  by  appearances.  And  meanwhile 
Eveline  stole  out  of  the  room.  Dickie 
had  just  time  to  throw  her  a  kiss  and 
she  to  shake  her  head  reprovingly  and 
make  a  face  at  her  father,  when  Nicholas 
Schuyler  turned  upon  the  offending 
Dickie  with  the  rage  of  offended  family 
pride. 

"Young  man,"  he  said,  "you've  been 
drinking!" 

"  Rather,"  chuckled  Dickie,  taking  his 
arm.  "  Let's  have  another,  just  to  show 
there's  no  ill  feeling." 

Whereupon  he  proceeded  to  lead  the 
indignant  Knickerbocker  toward  the 
smoking-room.  But  Nicholas  Schuy 
ler  was  in  no  mood  to  submit  to  such 
indignity.  He  threw  Dickie  aside,  and 
exclaimed,  angrily:  "  No,  sir;  I  will  not. 
As  for  you,  sir,  I  can  find  no  excuse — " 

What  the  outcome  of  this  contretemps 
might  have  been  is  hard  to  say,  for,  be 
fore  the  situation  became  more  unten- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  57 

able  for  the  unfortunate  Dickie,  Monty 
Dressier  appeared  in  the  doorway,  and 
seeing  the  impresario,  called  out,  joy 
fully:  "  I  say,  Dickie,  supper's  on!  " 

"By  Jove!  where?"  cried  Dickie. 
With  three  long  strides  he  reached  the 
door,  and,  arm  in  arm  with  Monty,  was 
proceeding  supperward  before  the 
stately  host  could  recover  from  his 
astonishment. 

"  Dear,  dear,"  Mr.  Schuyler  exclaimed, 
gasping  for  breath.  "  In  my  day  it  was 
three  bottles  and  under  the  table  to 
play  the  man,  now  it's  three  cocktails 
and  into  society  to  play  the  fool." 

Then  the  servants  drew  aside  the  cur 
tains,  disclosing  the  great  Von  Bulovvitz 
surrounded  by  a  cluster  of  feminine 
worshippers. 

"Superb!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Jones- 
Smythe,  basking  in  the  effulgence  of  the 
maestro  s  smile.  "  Such  feeling! " 

"It  was  just  too  sweet!"  gushed  her 
daughter  Mabel. 

"  Ladies,"  vociferated  the  little  Teu 
ton,  proudly,  striking  an  attitude  that 


58  THE    IDLE    BORN 

nearly  lost  him  his  balance,  "  you  have 
heard  the  great  Von  Bulowitz.  Ah,  the 
beautiful  woman !  She  always  makes  me 
perspire — non,  I  mean  inspire — ah,  the 
language  of  Engleesh!" 

"How  touching!  What  pathos!" 
sighed  Mrs.  Jones-Smythe,  gazing  into 
his  eyes  with  a  languor  quite  unsuitable 
to  her  two  hundred  pounds  of  avoirdu 
pois. 

Mr.  Schuyler  was  so  disgusted  with 
this  drivelling  hero-worship  that  he 
brusquely  put  an  end  to  the  proceed 
ings  by  offering  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Ferry 
Dobbs. 

"  Mrs.  Dobbs,"  he  said,  courteously, 
"won't  you  honor  me?  We  couldn't 
sup  without  you." 

"Oh,  really?"  murmured  the  queen, 
with  an  air  of  condescension,  while  Ber 
tie  Beacher  rose  to  the  occasion  man 
fully. 

"  Fancy  a  supper  without  Mrs.  Dobbs !" 
he  exclaimed,,  with  an  expression  of  dis 
gust  at  the  possibility  of  such  an  un 
toward  catastrophe. 


VI 

Struggling  to  be  free,  art  more  engaged. 

— Hamlet, 

The  alacrity  with  which  the  announce 
ment  of  supper  was  greeted  by  the  men 
might  be  taken  as  an  indication  that 
they  were  but  scantily  nourished,  were 
it  not  that  eating  is  a  sine  qua  non  of 
Anglo-Saxon  society.  On  the  Continent 
the  social  shibboleth  is  devoir;  with  us 
it  is  devour.  To  paraphrase  the  words 
of  Bertie  Beacher:  Fancy  society  with 
out  supper — especially  in  New  York! 

Wendell  had  been  waiting  for  a  word 
with  Ainslee,  and  the  onset  of  the  guests 
upon  the  buffet  gave  him  the  opportu 
nity.  He  called  his  friend  aside  just  as 
the  latter  was  on  the  point  of  taking 
Margaret  in  to  supper. 

"  Schuyler,  I— I've  told  her,"  he  said, 
hesitatingly. 

59 


6o  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Already?"  Ainslee  answered,  in  sur 
prise.  "Well?" 

"  I  was  right — I  have  no  chance." 

"  Well,  perhaps  I'm  not  the  one, 
either,"  said  Ainslee,  with  an  effort  to 
be  cheerful. 

"No;  it's  you,"  Wendell  replied. 
"  She  as  much  as  told  me." 

Ainslee  glanced  toward  Margaret.  "  I 
almost  wish  it  had  been  you,"  he  said. 
She  was  standing  near  the  door,  talking 
with  Rende  Dressier,  unconscious  of  the 
part  she  was  playing  in  the  drama  of 
two  men's  lives. 

"By  gad,  she  is  beautiful!"  he  ex 
claimed.  "  She's  not  like  the  rest!  " 

"  If  you  treat  her  like  the  rest,"  said 
Wendell,  suddenly,  "  remember,  I'll  owe 
you  nothing." 

Ainslee  looked  at  his  friend  mean 
ingly.  "  Norman,  you've  had  your 
chance,"  he  said.  "I've  played  fair." 

"  Yes.  It's  your  turn  now.  There's 
my  hand  on  it.  You — you  don't  know 
what  it  costs  me." 

Ainslee     grasped    Wendell's     hand. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  61 

"And  mine,  too,"  he  said,  with  deter 
mination.  "There  is  no  other  woman 
— there  never  will  be." 

While  ostensibly  bestowing  praise 
upon  Margaret  Irvington'sgown,  Renee 
Dressier  had  been  watching  the  two 
men  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye.  Being 
satisfied  that  something  serious  was 
transpiring,  she  edged  anxiously  in  their 
direction,  with  the  hope  of  catching  a 
stray  word  or  so.  Ainslee  saw  her 
manoeuvre,  and  walked  away  from 
Wendell  quietly,  staring  at  her  as  he 
passed.  Renee  laughed  and  shrugged 
her  shoulders. 

"  I  wondered  if  you  had  forgotten 
me,"  said  Margaret,  reproachfully,  as 
Ainslee  joined  her. 

"  Forget,"  he  returned,  "  what  is  most 
in  my  mind?  Impossible!" 

"Well,  how  does  that  please  you?" 
Renee  said  to  Wendell,  with  an  amused 
glance  in  the  direction  of  Margaret  and 
Ainslee. 

"  I  might  ask  you  the  same  question," 
he  replied,  coldly. 


62  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Why  so?  The  surest  way  to  keep 
a  man  is  to  have  him  marry  some  other 
woman." 

"  Yes.  Love  is  merely  a  longing  for 
something  you  haven't  got." 

"And  marriage  is  merely  a  loathing 
for  something  you  have.  All  of  which 
reminds  me  that  just  at  present  I  am 
longing  for  supper.  Shall  we  go?  " 

"Oh,  it's  always  time  to  do  some 
thing,"  said  Margaret,  when  they  were 
alone.  "  Time  to  get  up,  to  go  out,  to 
get  dressed,  to  dine.  Now,  I  suppose 
it's  time  to  go  to  supper." 

"  Not  now,"Ainslee  protested.  "  Make 
it  my  time,  won't  you?" 

"  If  there  is  a  time  for  everything," 
she  laughed,  "  I  suppose  there  is  one 
even  for  you." 

"  Won't  you  let  me  be  serious  for  one 
half-hour?" 

"  Were  you  ever  serious?  "  she  asked, 
doubtfully. 

"  I  am  desperately  serious  to-night." 

"And  to-morrow?" 

"  To-morrow  depends  on  you,  Mar- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  63 

garet,"  he  said,  earnestly.  "  Did  it  never 
occur  to  you  that  I  might  care? " 

"  To-night?    For  one  half-hour?" 

"No  —  always.  I  have  stumbled 
through  life  somehow,  and  now  you 
come — the  one  woman  on  earth  I 
ever  believed  in,  or  ever  could  believe 
in." 

"Oh,  wait,  wait!"  she  cried.  "If  I 
dared  trust  you!" 

"  Can't  you  see  that  I  mean  every 
word?"  he  exclaimed,  impetuously. 

"  For  the  moment,  yes.  But  I  might 
remember — always."  Her  voice  trem 
bled  as  she  spoke,  and  she  turned  her 
eyes  away. 

"  Why  do  you  mistrust  me  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Because  everything  that  I  know 
about  you  tells  me  that  I  should." 

"  Have  I  ever  pretended  to  be  any 
thing?  I'm  no  saint,  if  that  is  what  you 
mean." 

She  gazed  at  the  floor  thoughtfully. 
"You  are  honest,"  she  said,  after  a 
moment,  "and  that  is  something." 

"  You  could  make  me  of  some  use  in 


64  THE    IDLE    BORN 

the  world,"  he  pleaded.  "You  could 
make  a  man  of  me." 

"Are  you  quite  sure?"  she  answered, 
looking  up  suddenly  and  meeting  his 
glance.  "  Men  always  want  a  woman 
to  help  them  before  they  are  married-." 

"  No,  no!  "  he  said,  anxiously.  "  Take 
me  as  I  am — a  man  who  has  knocked 
about  the  world,  with  much  to  regret 
and  little  to  be  proud  of.  I  make  no 
pretense,  except  that  I  shall  try  to  make 
you  happy." 

She  looked  into  his  face  earnestly, 
"  I  begin  to  believe,"  she  said  at  last. 
She  felt  the  touch  of  his  arm  about  her 
waist. 

"  No,  no!  "  she  cried,  drawing  away  in 
fright.  "Wait!  Wait!" 

"  It  is  cruel  to  make  me  wait." 

She  turned  suddenly.  "  One  moment. 
Is  there  no  other  woman?" 

"  I  can't  tell  you  I've  never  been  in 
love,"  he  said,  with  an  effort.  "  It 
wouldn't  be  true." 

"And  now?   You  know  what  I  mean?" 

"  Now  it  is  only  a  regret." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  65 

"  Are  you  quite  sure? " 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  slowly,  "  that  is 
all  over." 

"  If  you  are  deceiving  yourself! "  she 
said,  with  a  shudder.  "  If  I  should  find 
out  that  you  are  deceiving  me! " 

He  took  both  her  hands  and  drew  her 
toward  him.  "  I  love  you,"  he  said,  "  I 
love  you,  Margaret! " 

Fear  and  doubt  were  stifled  by  the 
quick  beating  of  her  heart.  "  Yes,  I  be 
lieve  you,"  she  said,  impulsively. 

"  Only  one  word — it  means  so  much." 

"  Yes — I  love  you." 

When  Nicholas  Schuyler  came  into 
the  room  a  moment  later  he  blinked  in 
astonishment  at  the  sight  that  met  his 
eyes. 

"Schuyler,  you  rascal!"  he  cried, 
"  what  does  this  mean? " 

"  It  means,  uncle,  that  Miss  Irvington 
has  promised  to  marry  me.  Your  bad 
penny  has  turned  up  heads  for  once." 

"You  lucky  dog!"  exclaimed  the 
uncle.  "  But  you  don't  deserve  her." 
Then,  taking  Margaret's  hand  he  kissed 


66  THE    IDLE    BORN 

her  on  the  forehead.  "  My  dear  young 
lady,"  he  said,  "you've  done  honor  to  our 
family." 

"  I  hope  you  may  never  think  other 
wise,"  she  answered,  seriously. 

Renee  Dressier,  coming  from  the 
supper-room,  stopped  in  the  doorway 
to  survey  the  scene.  She  bit  her  lip 
angrily,  and  Norman  Wendell  smiled  at 
her  discomfiture. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  pardon,"  she  said,  sar 
castically,  "  do  I  interrupt  a  family  coun 
cil?" 

"  No,"  answered  Ainslee,  quickly,  "  a 
family  rejoicing.  Miss  Irvington  has 
promised  to  marry  me." 

She  glared  at  him  a  moment,  then 
turning  to  Margaret,  said,  with  evident 
maliciousness:  "Really,  I  congratulate 
Miss  Irvington  on  making  the  match  of 
the  season." 

"A  woman  of  the  world,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Dressier,"  interrupted  Mr.  Schuyler, 
quietly,  "  never  betrays  her  feelings." 

Renee  Dressier  looked  at  him  haugh 
tily.  "A  woman  of  the  world  never  has 


THE    IDLE    BORN  67 

feelings  to  betray,"  she  said.  Then 
turning  to  Ainslee,  she  whispered, 
quickly,  "  Schuyler,  you're  a  fool." 

"  Possibly,"  he  answered. 

Margaret  saw  the  look  of  evil  in  her 
face. 

"The  other  woman,"  she  thought. 
"  I  wonder 


PART  II 
ONE   AFTERNOON 


I 

Respecting  this  our  marriage. 

—Henry  VIII. 

A  year  of  matrimony  will  usually  kill 
the  illusions  of  a  woman,  or  cure  her  of 
the  desire  for  further  conquests.  If  for 
tunately  allied,  she  will  realize  that  the 
reality  of  satisfactory  matrimony,  with 
love  to  play  the  role  of  domestic  deus 
ex  machina  is  a  far  more  comfortable 
status  than  chasing  rainbows.  Mar 
riage  is  more  or  less  a  game  of  give  and 
take.  Were  women  to  recognize  this 
fact  more  universally  there  would  be 
fewer  wives  moping  about  in  tea  gowns 
or  listening  to  the  purring  of  tame  cats. 

It  is  one  thing  to  purr  sympathetically 
in  the  lamplight  and  another  to  be  sweet 
and  cheerful  at  the  breakfast  table; 
therefore  the  tame  cat  has  a  distinct 
advantage  over  the  liege  lord  until  the 
wife  discovers  that  he  will  play  and  purr 


72  THE    IDLE    BORN 

and  be  ever  so  cunning  and  attractive 
until  he  has  eaten  the  canary.  But, 
alas!  when  the  bird  is  caught  and  con 
sumed  the  tame  cat  will  retire  to  his  own 
fireside  to  sleep  off  the  effects,  and  when 
he  awakes  he  will  lick  his  chops  and 
begin  to  search  for  another  canary, 
while  the  lady  is  left  to  mourn  the  loss 
of  her  pet,  if  not  her  reputation. 

A  year  of  matrimony  had  brought 
Margaret  to  a  point  where  her  happi 
ness  was  very  much  like  a  kite  in  a  high 
wind.  One  moment  it  would  soar  into 
the  clouds  and  the  next  it  would  almost 
dash  itself  to  pieces  on  the  ground,while 
all  that  held  it  was  a  single  thread  called 
"confidence,"  and  that  often  seemed  on 
the  point  of  breaking. 

On  a  cloudy  afternoon  in  December 
Margaret  was  sitting  in  the  library  win 
dow-seat  of  her  new  house  reading  a 
novel.  It  was  one  of  those  stories  of  a 
woman's  moods  in  which  the  disease  is 
diagnosed  without  providing  the  cure. 
The  author,  however,  seemed  to  realize 
his  shortcomings,  for  in  an  apologetic 


THE    IDLE    BORN  73 

way  he  stated,  in  an  obscure  paragraph 
that  most  readers  would  skip,  that 
"  Happiness  is  merely  the  habit  of  good 
impulses." 

Margaret  read  the  line  again,  then 
threw  the  book  aside  impatiently.  "How 
little  people  who  write  books  know  about 
life!  "  she  sighed.  "  Happiness  must  be 
the  habit  of  never  feeling."  Then  she 
gazed  out  of  the  window.  Mrs.  Egerton 
drove  by  in  a  new  victoria,  and  Eveline 
Schuyler  ran  into  the  room,  calling,  im 
petuously:  "Cousin  Margaret!  Cousin 
Margaret!  Where  are  you?" 

"  Here,  child,"  said  Margaret. 

"  Well,  if  this  dance  is  for  me,"  pouted 
Eveline,  "I  think  I  might  have  some 
thing  to  say  about  it." 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter?  "  Margaret 
asked. 

"  Lady  Coldstream  is  the  matter,"  the 
girl  answered,  peevishly.  "  What  does 
she  know  about  dances?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know." 

"Well,  Dickie  Willing  certainly 
knows  something  about  them." 


74  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  If  he  knows  about  anything  it  must 
be  about  dances." 

"  I  think  you're — you're  dreadful," 
answered  Eveline,  kicking  a  stool  to 
give  vent  to  her  feelings.  "And  I  don't 
see  why  you  invited  Lady  Coldstream 
here,  anyway." 

"  Why,  last  summer  at  Homburg  she 
rather  amused  me,  when  everything  was 
going  wrong.  I  told  her  that  if  she  ever 
came  to  America  I  hoped  she  would 
stop  a  few  days  with  me.  She  came,  of 
course;  the  few  days  happen  to  have 
become  a  few  weeks,  but  that  was  to  be 
expected  —  the  English  are  so  very 
casual  in  America." 

"  Why  do  you  let  her  stay?  " 

"I  can  hardly  send  her  away.  Be 
sides,  she  still  amuses  me." 

Ainslee  came  into  the  room.  He 
glanced  at  Margaret  a  moment,  then  he 
picked  up  an  illustrated  paper,  the 
leaves  of  which  he  turned  nervously 
without  seeing  the  pages.  Margaret 
looked  out  of  the  window. 

Eveline  glanced  from  one  to  the  other 


THE    IDLE    BORN  75 

understandingly,  then  she  turned  on  her 
heel  and  walked  away. 

"  Don't  go,  Eveline,"  said  Margaret. 
"Schuyler  and  I  haven't  anything  to  say 
to  each  other." 

"  But  there's  no  knowing  what  Lady 
Coldstream  might  do  to  Dickie  Willing 
if  they're  left  alone,"  answered  the  girl, 
throwing  aside  the  portiere. 

Ainslee  waited  until  Eveline  was 
out  of  hearing;  then  he  put  down  his 
paper  quietly  and  came  toward  his  wife. 

"  It  seems  to  me  we  have  a  great  deal 
to  say,"  he  said,  "if  we  could  only  say 
it.  There  was  a  time  when  we  under 
stood  each  other." 

"Yes  —  before  we  were  married," 
sighed  Margaret.  "  People  always  un 
derstand  each  other  then  —  or  think 
they  do." 

"  But  what,  in  heaven's  name,  is  the 
matter  now?"  he  asked,  impatiently. 
"What  have  I  done?" 

Margaret  watched  some  children  play 
ing  in  the  park.  "  I  told  you  once,"  she 
said,  after  a  moment. 


76  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Did  you?"  he  answered,  dropping 
into  a  chair,  resignedly.  "  It  must  have 
been  a  long  time  ago.  At  present  you 
seem  to  revel  in  unexpressed  griev 
ances." 

"What  can't  be  cured  must  be  en 
dured,"  she  said,  as  she  carefully  rear 
ranged  the  pillows  of  the  window-seat. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  asked, 
sharply. 

Margaret  looked  at  him  with  an  ex 
pression  of  disdain.  "  You  know  well 
enough,"  she  said.  "  I  mean  Renee 
Dressier." 

Ainslee  jumped  to  his  feet.  "  Really, 
Margaret,  you  are  absurd,"  he  an 
swered,  plunging  his  hands  into  his 
pockets  and  pacing  the  floor.  "You 
know  that  was  all  ended  long  ago." 

"  I  know  you  told  me  so." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  believe 
there  is  anything  between  us  now  ?" 

"  I  only  believe  what  I  see,"  she  said. 

"Well,  what  have  you  seen?"  he  ask 
ed,  stopping  suddenly  and  looking  at 
her  with  a  puzzled  expression. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  77 

"  I  saw  her  follow  you  to  Homburg. 
I  couldn't  even  have  my  honeymoon  in 
peace." 

"  Homburg  was  very  dull  last  Sum 
mer,  and  even  you  must  admit  that  she 
is  amusing." 

"She  must  be,  judging  from  the  num 
ber  of  her  admirers." 

"There's  safety  in  numbers,  my  dear," 
he  laughed. 

Margaret  raised  herself  suddenly  and 
looked  him  full  in  the  eyes.  "She's 
made  a  dead  set  for  you,"  she  said,  "not 
only  at  Homburg,  but  ever  since  we  got 
back.  It  takes  a  woman  to  see  through 
another  woman." 

"  How  about  a  man  seeing  through 
another  man ?"  he  sneered.  "How  about 
Mr.  Norman  Wendell  ?  He  was  at  Hom 
burg,  too." 

"What  if  he  was?  He's  only  a  very 
old  friend." 

"  He  was  in  love  with  you." 

"  I  never  was  in  love  with  him,"  she 
answered,  sharply.  "And  you  were  with 
Renee  Dressier." 


78  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  said.  "  He 
comes  to  see  you  every  day.  People 
are  talking  about  it  already.  How  do 
you  suppose  I  like  that?" 

With  a  start  Margaret  pushed  the 
cushions  aside  and  sprang  to  her  feet. 
"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  believe 
there's  anything  between  us?"  she 
asked. 

"  I  only  believe  what  I  see,"  he  an 
swered. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  turn  my  words 
against  me,"  she  cried.  "  Do  you  want 
me  to  hate  you?" 

Ainslee  laughed.  Then,  going  toward 
her,  he  put  his  arm  around  her  sooth 
ingly. 

"  Come,  Margaret,  dear,"  he  said, 
"y°u  are  taking  all  this  too  seriously. 
Don't  make  a  mountain  out  of  a  mole 
hill.  Renee  Dressier  is  nothing  to  me." 

She  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck 
and  buried  her  face  on  his  shoulder. 

"Oh,  Schuyler,"  she  said,  half  tear 
fully,  "  if  you  could  only  see  the  tri 
umphant  way  that  woman  looks  at  me 


THE    IDLE    BORN  79 

— just  as  much  as  to  say:  'You  married 
him,  but  he  is  mine;  do  you  understand? 
mine!'  It  began  that  night  at  your  un 
cle's,  when  you  told  her  we  were  en 
gaged." 

'There,  dear,  don't  worry  about  it 
any  more,"  he  said,  stroking  her  hair. 
"  I  wouldn't  let  her  come  between  us 
for  anything  on  earth." 

"Will  you  promise  you  won't  see  her 
again?"  she  asked,  eagerly. 

"  How  can  I?  You  know  we  meet  her 
everywhere." 

"Never  mind;  cut  her.  She  will  un 
derstand." 

"  I'll  do  anything  you  ask  me,  except 
be  rude.  I  can't,  with  decency,  cut  Mrs. 
Dressier,  but  I'll  see  just  as  little  of  her 
as  I  can.  There,  does  that  satisfy  you?" 

"Then  you  do  love  me?"  she  ex 
claimed. 

"Of  course  I  love  you,"  he  said.  "You 
know  that  I  do.  My  one  wish  is  to 
prove  it  to  you." 

Then  he  kissed  her,  and  her  happi 
ness  soared  above  the  clouds  into  the 


8o  THE    IDLE    BORN 

clear  sunshine,  and  the  slender  thread 
seemed  strong  enough  to  hold  it  there 
forever. 


II 

The  elect  of  the  land. 


—Henry  VIII. 


"Oh,  I  say;  kissing  your  wife"!  said 
Lady  Coldstream,  stopping  in  the  door 
way  and  surveying  the  situation.  "Fancy! 
You  Americans  do  such  extraordinary 
things." 

Lady  Coldstream  was  a  superb  crea 
tion,  with  frizzled  hair  and  a  wasplike 
waist,  and  wearing  a  tailor  gown  that 
fitted  as  if  she  had  grown  into  it.  She 
had  big,  dreamy  eyes  and  a  little  droop 
ing  mouth.  Her  pictures  were  dis 
played  in  Bond  street  among  the  types 
of  reigning  English  beauties.  She  was 
thirty-eight,  but  she  might  have  passed 
for  twenty  in  the  lamplight. 

Ainslee  looked  up  in  answer  to  her 
remark.  "Why  not  ?"  he  said.  "  It's 
not  improper,  is  it?" 

"Improper!  No,  by  Jove!  Idiotic!" 
81 


82  THE    IDLE    BORN 

and  Lady  Coldstream  advanced  into 
the  room,  followed  by  Eveline  and  the 
ubiquitous  Dickie  Willing.  "Coldstream 
tried  to  kiss  me  once.  I  asked  him  if 
he  was  so  unpopular  that  no  other 
woman  would." 

"Ha!  Rather  neat,  what?"  gurgled 
Dickie,  with  evident  appreciation. 

"And  that  silly  man,  too,"  rejoined 
Lady  Coldstream,  with  a  glance  of 
scorn  in  the  direction  of  the  unfortunate 
Willing;  "  he  positively  objects  to  hav 
ing  any  sitting-out  corners  at  the  party." 

"Rather!"  expostulated  Dickie.  "No 
body  will  dance." 

"Yes,"  exclaimed  Eveline.  "It would 
spoil  Dickie's  cotillion." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Lady  Coldstream  to 
Margaret,  "you  really  must  have  them. 
Fancy  a  dance  with  no  place  to  kiss  a 
girl,  or  even  hold  her  hand!  Why,  in 
London  the  men  wouldn't  come." 

"  But  this  is  New  York,"  Ainslee  sug 
gested. 

"Aren't  the  men  human  over  here?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  not  at  dances,"    an- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  83 

swered  Ainslee, walking  toward  the  door 
of  his  den.  "  They  have  so  many  bet 
ter  opportunities." 

"Oh,  Schuyler,"  expostulated  Marga 
ret.  "  How  shocking!"  But  he  did  not 
heed  the  reproof. 

"  Send  me  a  pick-me-up,  Schuyler," 
called  Lady  Coldstream;  "there's  a  dear 
— feeling  rather  dicky." 

"  Certainly,"  he  said,  as  he  closed  the 
door. 

Lady  Coldstream  threw  herself  into 
an  easy  chair  and  crossed  her  legs. 
Then,  taking  from  her  pocket  a  little 
silver  case  adorned  with  a  coronet,  she 
proceeded  to  light  a  violet-tipped  ciga 
rette. 

Eveline  sidled  toward  Margaret, 
keeping  an  eye  on  Lady  Coldstream. 
"  Cousin  Margaret,"  she  said,  in  a  stage 
whisper,  "don't  let  her  spoil  everything. 
Dickie's  been  working  so  hard  to  make 
the  dance  go." 

"  I  should  say!"  exclaimed  Dickie, 
proudly.  "  Didn't  sleep  all  last  night. 
Inventing  something  startling.  Got  it, 


84  THE    IDLE    BORN 

too.  Going  to  have  a  live  baby  ele 
phant  to  bring  in  the  favors.  I'm  going 
to  drive  him  myself  in  a  Roman  chariot 
—Ha!  Rather  neat,  what  ?" 

"  Nasty  beast,"  interrupted  Lady 
Coldstream,  puckering  up  her  nose. 
"  He'll  be  sure  to  stick  his  trunk  down 
my  neck  looking  for  sugar  plums." 

"  But  won't  Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs  be 
crazy!"  chuckled  Dickie.  "She  had  only 
a  goat." 

"Well,  scratch  my  entry,  then,"  said 
Lady  Coldstream,  coughing  from  an 
over-inhalation  of  smoke.  "  I  can  run 
a  dance,  but  not  a  menagerie." 

Just  then  a  servant  approached,  bear 
ing  a  tray  on  which  was  a  decanter  and 
a  bottle  of  soda.  Dickie  looked  at 
the  tray  longingly,  but  there  was  only 
one  glass.  Eveline  pulled  his  coat- 
sleeve. 

"  Now's  our  chance,"  she  whispered. 

"  Rather — before  she  changes  her 
mind."  Then  they  tiptoed  quietly  out 
of  the  room. 

"  That's  a  quaint  Johnny,"  said  Lady 


THE    IDLE    BORN  85 

Coldstream,  as  she  poured  out  what 
men  would  dub  "  a  pretty  stiff  drink." 
"  Does  he  get  paid  for  managing  par 
ties?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Margaret,  taking  up 
her  book  again  and  running  over  the 
leaves  carelessly.  "We  all  help  him  out 
that  way;  He  had  a  fortune  once,  but 
it  ran  away." 

"  Just  like  Lord  Meadowmere," 
grunted  Lady  Coldstream.  "  He  had 
the  'oof  and  a  wife,  too;  but  they 
both  ran  away.  Poor  dear,  he  had  to 
turn  dressmaker.  I  was  dotty  about 
him  once,  so  went  to  his  place  just  to 
give  him  a  leg  up.  Fancy!  He  took 
my  clothes  off  and  stuck  pins  into  me. 
Beastly  improper,  wasn't  it?" 

"  Of  course — Oh,  what  did  you  say  ?  " 
said  Margaret,  vaguely. 

Lady  Coldstream  put  down  her  glass 
and  looked  at  Margaret.  She  was 
gazing  at  the  floor,  and  did  not  notice 
that  she  was  being  surveyed  by  the 
critical  eye  of  a  woman  who  had  lived 
the  pace. 


86  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  I  say,  Margaret,  you  are  cut  up," 
vouchsafed  Lady  Coldstream,  after  a 

moment. 

"  I    was    only    worrying,"   Margaret 

sighed. 

"  My  dear,  no  man  is  worth  worrying 
about." 

"  I  didn't  say  it  was  a  man." 

"  My  dear,  no  woman  ever  worries 
about  anything  else." 

"  It  was  only  Schuyler." 

"  My  dear,"  continued  Lady  Cold- 
stream,  laconically, "  don't  bother  about 
your  husband  until  you  are  so  old  other 
men  won't  bother  about  you." 

"  I  am  not  that  kind,"  Margaret  said, 
sharply. 

"Oh,  I  say,"  murmured  her  com 
panion,  "  how  about  that  painter  of 
yours?" 

"  He's  only  an  old  friend." 

"Oh,  of  course,"  said  Lady  Cold- 
stream,  pointedly,  "  they  always  are." 

Margaret's  face  flushed.  "  Muriel, 
believe  me,"  she  protested.  Then 
she  checked  herself.  "  Oh,  you  would 


THE    IDLE    BORN  87 

never  understand — why  discuss  the 
matter?" 

"  As  you  please,"  answered  Lady 
Coldstream,  reaching  for  her  whisky 
and  soda.  "  Let's  talk  about  the 
weather  or  Charlier-Duval.  He's  com 
ing  this  afternoon  isn't  he?" 

"Yes,  I've  asked  Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs 
and  a  few  people  to  see  my  portrait." 

"Pon  my  honor,"  exclaimed  Lady 
Coldstream,  putting  down  her  glass 
emphatically.  "  I  can't  see  how  you 
endure  that  man.  He's  a  French  cad, 
and  that's  '  the  limit/  as  you  say  over 
here.  But  you  Americans  will  take  up 
with  anything  that's  foreign." 

"  Exactly, "  laughed  Margaret. 
"That's  why  you  have  had  such  a 
success." 

"  I  say,"  frowned  Lady  Coldstream, 
"that  is  a  nasty  one." 

Margaret  did  not  vouchsafe  a  reply. 
There  were  moments  when  Lady  Cold- 
stream  bored  her.  She  was  better 
taken  at  dessert  than  as  a  tonic  before 
dinner.  So  the  English  beauty  sipped 


88  THE    IDLE    BORN 

her  pick-me-up  in  silence,  and  Margaret 
turned  the  leaves  of  her  novel  until  a 
servant  appeared  and  announced: 

"Monsoor  Duval!" 

A  diminutive  Frenchman,  with  the 
rosette  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  in  his 
buttonhole,  followed  the  announcement, 
and  bowed  impressively  with  his  hand 
on  his  heart.  His  hair  floated  in  several 
directions,  and  so  did  his  tie.  But  he 
was  a  portrait  painter,  a  la  mode,  and 
was  necessarily  made  up  for  the  part, 
even  to  trousers  that  did  not  fit  and  a 
turned  down  collar  of  Byronesque  cut. 

"  CKere  Madame,  your  serviteur"  he 
said  to  Margaret.  Then,  taking  her 
hand  and  pressing  it  to  his  lips:  "Will 
you  permeet  ze  humble  homage  of  art 
at  ze  shrine  of  beaut/?" 

Lady  Coldstream  giggled — but  Char- 
lier-Duval,  undismayed,  turned  toward 
her  and,  striking  an  attitude  of  admira 
tion,  said,  effusively: 

"Ah,  vat  a  picture!  Zat  pose — I  paint 
him!" 

"What!"     exclaimed     Lady    Cold- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  89 

stream,  "  paint  me  with  a  whisky  and 
soda?  Happy  thought,  by  Jove! — your 
pictures  do  need  spirit." 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  me  no,"  said  the 
little  Frenchman,  kissing  her  hand 
and  looking  into  her  eyes  pleadingly. 
Then  he  whispered,  confidentially: 
"  For  you  I  make  ze  price  only  five 
thousand  dollar — ze  honaire  ees  so 
great!" 

"Well,  when  you  paint  me,"  she 
growled,  drawing  her  hand  away  with  a 
little  shrug  of  disgust,  "  I'll  be  so  old 
colors  will  run  at  sight  of  me." 

"Ah,  Lady  Coldstream,  you  aire 
cruelle,"  he  sighed,  perking  his  head 
on  one  side  and  screwing  his  face  and 
shoulders  into  an  expression  of  despair. 
Then,  turning  to  Margaret,  he  asked, 
anxiously;  "  But  vill  ze  great  Meeses 
Ferry  Dpbbs  come  to  honaire  my  chef 
d'  (Buvre?  " 

"  I  asked  her,"  Margaret  answered. 
"As  there'll  only  be  a  very  few  people, 
she'll  probably  come." 

"  Unless    I    paint    ze    great   Meeses 


90  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Ferry  Dobbs,"  exclaimed  the  French* 
man,  "  Carolus  and  Chartran  vill  say  I 
make  no  success  in  America." 

"  Then  make  her  an  exclusive  price," 
said  Margaret,  coldly,  as  she  turned  to 
greet  Norman  Wendell,  who,  as  I1  ami 
de  la  maison,  had  sauntered  in  unan 
nounced. 

"  Oh,  Norman,"  she  said,  eagerly, 
"  I'm  so  glad  you've  come.  My  por 
trait's  just  finished.  I  want  to  know 
what  you  think  of  it."  Turning  to 
the  Frenchman,  she  continued:  "Mr. 
Charlier-Duval,  let  me  introduce  Mr. 
Wendell,  one  of  our  American  paint 
ers." 

The  foreigner  looked  Wendell  over 
from  head  to  foot;  then,  with  a  depre 
cating  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  he  said: 
"  Ah,  I  deed  not  know  zere  were  any 
painters  in  America." 

"  Exactly,"  Wendell  murmured,  gent 
ly.  "We  American  painters  have  to  go 
to  Europe  to  find  appreciation,  Mon 
sieur  Charlatan  Duval." 

l,  monsieur,"  cried  the 


THE    IDLE    BORN  91 

Frenchman,  growing  very  red  in  the 
face. 

"  Pardon  me,  I  had  not  heard  the 
name  before,"  said  Wendell.  "  I  have 
just  returned  from  Paris." 

"  Monsieur,  you  insult  me!  "shouted 
Charlier-Duval,  inflating  his  chest. 

Margaret,  frightened  at  the  contre 
temps,  stepped  between  them  hurriedly. 

"  Really,  gentlemen,"  she  exclaimed, 
"  I— Oh,  there's  Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs." 

Charlier-Duval  drew  himself  up 
proudly.  "  Then  I  vait,"  he  said  with 
an  impressive  gesture  of  defiance,  while 
Wendell  turned  on  his  heel  and  saun 
tered  away. 

Mrs.  Dobbs  and  Beacher  swept  into 
the  room  with  terrifying  magnificence, 
while  the  lowly  partner  of  the  royal 
joys  and  sorrows  stumbled  over  an 
obtrusive  taboret  and  dropped  his 
hat. 

"So  glad  you  could  come,"  said 
Margaret,  cordially.  "  I  do  hope  you'll 
like  the  portrait." 

"Oh,  really,"  murmured   the   queen 


92  THE    IDLE    BORN 

languidly,  handing  her  muff  to  Beacher, 
who  passed  it  disdainfully  to  Dobbs. 

"  May  I  introduce  Monsieur  Duval?" 
Margaret  continued.  "  He  is  so  anxious 
to  meet  you." 

"  Oh,  really,"  muttered  Mrs.  Dobbs, 
condescendingly  handing  her  pocket- 
book  to  Beacher,  who,  after  glancing  at 
Dobbs  distrustfully,  put  it  quietly  into 
his  own  pocket. 

Meanwhile,  the  little  Frenchman 
clicked  his  heels  together  and  bowed 
obsequiously. 

"  Chere  madame"  he  said,  "  your 
ser&iteur?  Then,  pressing  the  royal 
hand  to  his  lips,  he  continued,  with 
effusion:  "Will  you  permeet  ze  hum 
ble  homage  of  art  at  ze  shrine  of 
beautS?" 

But  Mrs.  Dobbs  remained  unmoved. 
With  the  desperation  of  despair,  the 
painter  posed  himself  for  his  coup  de 
grace. 

"Ah,  vat  a  picture!"  he  cried.  "Ze 
pose  of  a  queen!  I  paint  him!" 

"  Oh,  really,"  she   answered,  coldly, 


THE    IDLE    BORN  93 

casting  a  look  of  annoyance  at  the 
faithful  Beacher. 

"Oh,  say  me  not  no!  For  you  I 
make  ze  price  only  twenty  thousand 
dollar,"  whispered  the  Frenchman, 
confidentially,  "ze  honaire  ees  so  great." 

But  Beacher  rose  to  the  occasion. 
"  I  say,  Mrs.  Dobbs,"  he  interrupted, 
"  there's  Lady  Coldstream." 

"  Oh,  really,"  eagerly  cried  the  queen, 
turning  away  from  poor  Charlier-Duval, 
and  leaving  him  to  glare  dejectedly  at 
her  departing  grandeur.  "  Queen! "  he 
muttered.  "  Non — canaille!  " 

"  So  awfully  good  of  you  to  dine  with 
us  on  Thursday,  dear  Lady  Cold- 
stream,"  said  Bertie  Beacher,  breaking 
into  the  conversation  the  English 
beauty  was  holding  with  Norman 
Wendell.  "  Isn't  it,  Mrs.  Dobbs  ?  " 

Lady  Coldstream  gave  them  both  a 
withering  glance.  "  Oh,  really,"  she 
said.  Then  she  turned  her  back  and 
continued  her  talk  with  Wendell. 

The  queen  drew  herself  up  with  dig 
nity  and  gasped. 


94  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Never  mind,  she's  English,"  whis 
pered  Beacher,  soothingly,  and  together 
they  sought  a  refuge  in  the  corner,  while 
Dobbs,  who  had  witnessed  the  collapse 
of  the  royal  assurance,  grinned  a  meek 
grin  of  satisfaction. 

"  I  do  hope  we  are  not  too  late," 
shouted  Mrs.  Jones-Smythe,  as  she 
burst  into  the  room  with  breathless 
haste.  "  We  did  hurry  so  to  get  away 
from  Mrs.  Egerton's,  didn't  we,  Mabel  ?" 

"Yes,  mamma,"  simpered  the  dutiful 
daughter. 

"  You're  just  in  time,"  said  Margaret, 
resignedly.  Then,  seeing  in  the  arrival 
of  Monty  Dressier  a  chance  of  escape, 
she  called  to  the  Frenchman,  who  was 
still  alone:  "Let  me  introduce  you  to 
Mrs.  Jones-Smythe,  Monsieur  Duval." 
And  leaving  the  painter  to  his  fate,  she 
turned  to  Monty  Dressier  eagerly,  feel 
ing  that  even  he  was  a  relief. 

Charlier-Duval  glanced  at  Mrs.  Jones- 
Smythe  and  shuddered.  His  bow  was 
lacking  in  impressiveness. 

"It  is  a  great  honor  to  meet  so  dis- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  95 

tinguished  an  artist,"  was  the  effusive 
greeting  of  Mrs.  Jones-Smythe.  "  Isn't 
it,  Mabel?" 

"  Yes,  mamma." 

"  Oh,  I  beg  pardon,"  said  the  admir 
ing  mother,  "  this  is  my  daughter,  Mabel. 
She  adores  art.  She  paints  tea-cups 
charmingly." 

Charlier-Duval  lifted  his  eyebrows  in 
mild  amazement,  while  Mabel  seized 
her  mother's  arm  hurriedly.  "Oh, 
mamma,"  she  whispered,  "there  is  Mrs. 
Ferry  Dobbs." 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  the  mother,  "I  must 
speak  to  her."  And,  with  a  hurried  ex 
cuse  to  Duval,  she  waddled  toward  the 
queen,  dragging  Mabel  after  her. 

Duval  shrugged  his  shoulders  sus 
piciously.  "Jones-Smythe,"  he  mur 
mured;  "I  know  not  ze  name."  Then 
he  took  a  little  morocco-bound  note 
book  from  his  pocket  and  hurriedly  ran 
over  the  pages.  "Bah!"  he  said, 
finally.  "  She  ees  not  in  ze  seventy-five. 
I  make  her  not  a  price." 

Margaret  had  been  endeavoring,  in- 


96  THE    IDLE    BORN 

effectually,  to  converse  with  Monty 
Dressier;  but  books  and  music  were  be 
yond  his  understanding,  so  her  efforts 
ended  abruptly,  while  his  eyes  traveled 
about  the  room  restlessly,  as  if  he  were 
seeking  a  plausible  means  of  escape. 

"I  say,  aren't  you  jealous?"  he  said, 
with  a  meaning  glance  across  the  room. 
"  Look  at  Wendell  and  Lady  Cold- 
stream — I  wouldn't  trust  him  too  far,  if 
I  were  you.  She's  quite  a  fascinator." 

"Really,  Mr.  Dressier,"  answered 
Margaret,  coldly,  "  I  fail  to  see  the 
point." 

"The  point!"  laughed  Dressier. 
Meeting  a  stony  stare,  he  hesitated. 
"Oh,  the  point  is  —  ah  —  um — where's 
your  husband?" 

"You'll  find  him  in  his  den,"  and 
Margaret  turned  away  abruptly,  leaving 
him  to  chuckle  to  himself:  "  I  had  her 
there,"  as  he  sauntered  off  in  search  of 
Ainslee. 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Jones-Smythe  was 
pounding  away  with  verbal  artillery  in 
a  vain  attempt  to  reduce  the  defenses 


THE    IDLE    BORN  97 

of  Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs;  but  the  latter  was 
equal  to  the  occasion,  and  after  repeated 
repulses  the  attacking  party  was  forced 
to  plead,  as  a  final  effort: 

"Oh,  I'm  so  disappointed.  Wouldn't 
Friday  do,  or  Monday — or  any  day  you 
like?  You  know  I  am  counting  on 
you." 

"  Oh,  really! "  said  Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs, 
frigidly,  with  a  stare  that  was  absolutely 
squelching,  as  she  turned  on  her  heel 
and  strode  away,  leaving  the  discomfited 
tuft-hunter  to  recover  from  her  igno 
minious  defeat  as  best  she  might. 

"  The  cat! "  hissed  Mrs.  Jones-Smythe, 
when  she  had  caught  her  breath. 

"  Never  mind,  mamma,"  said  Mabel, 
reassuringly.  "  We're  as  rich  as  she  is 
— some  day  it'll  be  our  turn." 

Lady  Coldstream  had  been  taking  in 
this  little  comedy  of  manners.  "  The 
queen  is  rather  nifty,  what?"  she  said 
to  Wendell. 

"  Yes,  it  is  getting  more  difficult  every 
day  for  a  well-bred  woman  to  keep  her 
position  in  New  York." 


98  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  Poor  Mrs.  Smythe,  I  pity  her,"  re 
plied  Lady  Coldstream,  feelingly. 

"  Don't  pity  the  rich — they,  too,  have 
their  pleasures,  said  Wendell,  quoting 
a  proverb  he  had  heard  somewhere. 

Charlier-Duval,  however,  was  grow 
ing  impatient.  He  stood  alone  in  the 
center  of  the  stage,  but  the  audience 
failed  somehow  to  realize  the  presence 
of  the  star. 

"And  ze  portrait,"  he  called  to  Mar 
garet.  "  Meeses  Ferry  Dobbs  have  not 
seen  him." 

"  Muriel,  dear,"  said  Margaret  to 
Lady  Coldstream,  "  won't  you  lead  the 
way?  I  am  really  ashamed  to  show 
myself  off." 

"  You  ought  to  be  proud,  my  dear — 
it  flatters  you  tremendously." 

"Thanks,  dear,"  laughed  Margaret. 
"  I  shall  never  be  conceited  so  long  as 
you  are  here." 

Lady  Coldstream  did  not  vouchsafe 
a  reply,  but  obediently  led  the  way  to 
the  drawing-room,  followed  by  the 
Jones-Smythes.  Charlier-Duval  swelled 


THE    IDLE    BORN  99 

his  chest  imposingly  and  held  the 
portiere  for  Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs  to  pass, 
while  Beacher,  obedient  to  a  glance 
from  the  queen,  disturbed  the  equanim 
ity  of  Ferry  Dobbs'  slumbers  by  shak 
ing  him  and  saying,  gruffly:  "  Wake  up, 
Dobbs;  you're  wanted!"  Whereupon 
the  little  millionaire  shuffled  meekly 
toward  the  drawing-room,  upsetting  a 
vase  of  flowers  as  he  passed. 


Ill 

Such  cause  of  suspicion. 

— Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

Margaret  turned  away  from  the  re 
treating  guests  with  an  expression  of 
relief.  Fortunately,  the  presence  of 
Lady  Coldstream  would  gratify  the 
pretentiousness  of  Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs, 
so  she  felt  at  liberty  to  steal  a  word 
with  Wendell. 

"  How  tiresome  those  people  are," 
she  said,  sinking  wearily  into  the  corner 
of  a  divan. 

"  Yet  they  are  your  friends,"  answered 
Wendell,  drawing  up  a  chair. 

"  Hardly,"  she  said,  with  a  tinge  of 
sarcasm.  "  One  has  only  acquaintances 
and  enemies  in  society." 

"Why  so  cynical,  Margaret?"  Wen 
dell  asked,  looking  into  her  face 
anxiously.  "  It  isn't  like  you." 

"Do  you  know  what  I  am  like?  I 
hardly  know  myself." 

IOI 


102  THE     IDLE    BORN 

"  I  know  what  you  have  been  to  me," 
he  said. 

"You  foolish  boy,"  she  laughed. 
Then,  after  a  moment's  thought,  she 
continued:  "  I  wish  you  would  fall  in 
love  with  some  nice  girl.  I  want  you  to 
be  happy.  I  am  almost  happy  myself 
to-day." 

"  Why,  only  yesterday  you  told  me 
— "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Forget  it,  Norman,"  she  interrupted. 
"  I  was  wrong  to  speak  of  it.  It  was 
nothing — only  my  foolish  jealousy." 

"Are  you  quite  sure?"  he  asked. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  me  that  ? "  she  said. 

Wendell  hesitated.  "  Because  I  might 
help  you,"  he  said,  finally.  "  He  would 
listen  to  me.  I  could  make  him  listen." 

"You  needn't,"  answered  Margaret. 
"  We  talked  it  over  to-day.  We  under 
stand  each  other  now." 

Wendell  looked  out  of  the  window  at 
the  passing  carriages.  "  Forgive  me," 
he  answered,  quietly,  "  for  thinking 
Schuyler  would  do  anything  to  make 
you  unhappy." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  103 

"  You  are  always  a  comfort,  Norman," 
said  Margaret.  "  It  is  something  to 
know  there  is  one  person  one  can  count 
on." 

For  a  moment  Wendell  did  not  an 
swer.  Then  he  turned  suddenly  and, 
looking  into  her  eyes,  said  earnestly: 

"  Let  me  help  you  if  there  is  ever 
need — let  me  still  see  you  often." 

Margaret  smiled.  She  was  thinking 
of  what  Lady  Coldstream  had  said 
about  husbands  and  other  men.  "And 
the  more  often  I  see  you,  the  more  peo 
ple  will  talk,"  she  said,  placing  a  cush 
ion  behind  her  back. 

"  Need  we  throw  away  our  friendship 
for  that?"  he  asked.  "People  will  al 
ways  talk  about  something." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  she  sighed. 

"  Let  me  feel  I  am  something  to  you," 
he  said,  anxiously;  "  that  I  have  still 
some  part  in  your  life." 

She  looked  up  and  met  his  eyes. 
"And  should  I  need  your  help,"  she 
asked,  playfully,  "will  you  promise  me 
your  strong  right  arm?" 


io4  THE    IDLE    BORN 

He  pressed  her  hand  to  his  lips.  "Yes, 
I  promise,"  he  said. 

It  was  not  the  moment  either  would 
have  chosen  for  the  entrance  of  Renee 
Dressier,  but  the  unexpected  happened; 
just  as  Wendell  took  Margaret's  hand 
she  appeared  in  the  doorway  and,  tak 
ing  in  the  situation  at  a  glance,  smiled 
with  undisguised  satisfaction  at  what 
she  saw. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  pardon,"  she  said,  sar 
castically,  "  I  feel  I  interrupt." 

Margaret  blushed.  Innocent  as  Wen 
dell's  action  had  been,  she  saw  quickly 
what  Renee  Dressier  meant. 

"  Not  at  all,  I  assure  you,"  she  said, 
confusedly. 

"Really— I  heard  Mr.  Wendell  had 
gone  to  Westbury  —  so  finding  him 
here,  I  thought  — "  Then  Renee 
Dressier  looked  at  the  ceiling  and 
smiled. 

"I  am  going  later,"  said  Wendell, 
sharply.  "There  is  surely  nothing  sur 
prising  in  finding  me  here." 

"  With  so  attractive  a  woman — cer- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  105 

tainly  not.  But  it  looked  as  if  I  might 
be  de  trap!' 

"That  is  usually  the  case  with  a  third 
party,  Mrs.  Dressier,  where  you  are  con 
cerned,"  said  Margaret,  coldly.  Then 
she  turned  away  abruptly  and  fol 
lowed  by  Wendell,  entered  the  draw 
ing-room. 

Renee  Dressier  shrugged  her  shoul 
ders  contemptuously.  "  So  it  is  to  be 
war,"  she  said  to  herself.  "Very  well;  I 
accept  the  challenge." 

Going  to  the  table,  she  took  up  a  pho 
tograph  of  Margaret,  and  eyed  it  criti 
cally.  Smiling  significantly,  she  put  it 
back  in  its  place  and,  taking  up  her 
muff,  started  toward  the  door  of  Ains- 
lee's  den,  where  she  met  her  husband. 
Monty  was  evidently  in  bad  humor,  for 
he  swore  under  his  breath  and  slammed 
the  door  violently. 

"  Please,  remember,  you're  not  at 
home,  Monty,"  said  his  wife,  reproving 
ly.  "  Your  domestic  manners  hardly 
adorn  society." 

"  Society  be  damned!"  muttered  Mori- 


106  THE    IDLE    BORN 

ty,  "and  Ainslee,  too.  He's  gone  back 
on  me." 

"You  can't  blame  him,  can  you?" 
sneered  Renee.  "A  husband  who  fleeces 
his  wife's  admirers  is  not  an  edifying 
spectacle,  even  in  New  York." 

"You're  a  nice  lot  to  talk,"  he  growled. 
"You  and  your  beastly  extravagance 
have  got  me  into  this  mess.  Now  you've 
got  to  get  me  out.  You  must  make 
Ainslee  renew  the  loan." 

"And  if  I  can't  or  won't?" 

"Then  we  leave  Fifth  avenue  for  the 
poor-house." 

"  How  charming!"  Renee  exclaimed, 
with  an  air  of  relief.  "Then  I  shall  be 
able  to  divorce  you  for  non-support." 

"  None  of  your  confounded  sarcasm," 
snarled  Monty.  "Can't  you  see  the  hole 
I'm  in?" 

"My  dear  Monty,"  she  answered, 
sweetly,  "you  seem  to  forget  that  Schuy- 
ler  Ainslee  is  married." 

"I  forget  nothing,"  he  answered, with 
a  meaning  look.  "  I  simply  give  you 
credit  for  being  a  clever  woman." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  107 

"  You  flatter  me,"  she  exclaimed,  "but 
I  fear  your  confidence  is  misplaced. 
Only  yesterday  he  asked  me  to  return 
his  letters." 

She  drew  a  bundle  of  letters  from  her 
muff  and  waved  them  tauntingly  before 
his  eyes. 

"Are  you  fool  enough  to  do  it?"  he 
asked. 

"Why  not  ?  They  are  ancient  history 
now,"  she  said. 

Dressier  snatched  the  letters  out  of 
her  hand.  "Then  I'll  keep  them,"  he 
said,  drawing  away  from  her  quickly. 
"They  might  come  in  useful." 

"  Monty,"  she  cried,  angrily,  "  give 
those  letters  back.  I'll  help  you  in 
my  own  way,  or  not  at  all." 

Dressier  paid  no  attention  to  what 
she  said,  but  taking  one  of  the  letters 
from  the  bundle  he  began  to  read  it. 

"  Oh,  ho!"  he  laughed.     "This  hardly 
sounds  like  ancient  history.     Listen! 
'  DEAREST  R.: 

'N.  W.  is  going  to  the  country.  Meet 
me  at  the  studio  at  11.30.  The  door  will 


io8  THE    IDLE    BORN 

be  open,  so  don't  ring.    And  above  all, 
don't  disappoint  me. 

'Yours,  as  ever, 

'S.'" 

Monty  looked  at  her  quizzically. 
"When  was  this  written?"  he  asked. 

"  Last  year,  I  suppose,"  she  answered, 
indifferently.  "I  have  not  heard  from 
him  for  months." 

Dressier  examined  the  letter  care 
fully.  "There  is  no  date,"  he  said.  "It 
might  have  been  written  to-day.  How 
fortunate  I  am  such  a  trusting  husband!" 

Renee  approached  him  quickly  and 
snatched  the  letters  from  his  hand. 
"What  a  cad  you  are!"  she  said. 

"You're  not  the  one  to  call  names," 
he  answered.  "  I'm  not  the  only  man 
in  New  York  who  has  gone  to  the  devil 
to  keep  his  wife  in  the  swim.  I  might 
have  been  a  decent  chap  if  I  hadn't 
married  you." 

"  Yes,  and  I  might  have  married 
Schuyler  Ainslee  and  had  all  this,"  she 
said,  with  an  envious  glance  about  the 
room.  Then  she  pushed  him  from  her 


THE    IDLE    BORN  109 

angrily.  "Go,  Monty,  go,"  she  cried. 
"  Oh,  sometimes  I  feel  I  could  kill  you." 

He  walked  to  the  door  sullenly,  then 
he  turned  and  looked  at  her.  "  Good 
God,  Renee,"  he  said,  "you  could  give 
the  devil  points." 

She  did  not  answer,  so  he  left  her 
gazing  at  Ainslee's  letter.  "  It  might 
have  been  written  yesterday,"  she  said, 
when  she  heard  his  step  in  the  hall. 
"What  if  it  were  ?"  She  folded  the  let 
ter  carefully  and  put  it  in  her  muff,  keep 
ing  the  others  in  her  hand. 

"  I'll  keep  that  letter,"  she  thought. 
"Some  day,  Schuyler  Ainslee,  I'll  clip 
your  wings." 


IV 

But  my  revenge  will  come. 


— Hamlet. 


When  Ainslee  came  into  the  library 
a  moment  later  he  found  Renee  Dress 
ier  seated  before  the  fire,  with  her  head 
thrown  back  and  her  feet  on  the  fender, 
in  an  attitude  indicative  of  possession. 
She  had  made  up  her  mind  to  hold  her 
ground,  and  such  a  trifling  matter  as 
Margaret's  defiance  had  not  in  the  least 
disturbed  her  equanimity.  On  the  con 
trary,  her  fighting  nature  had  been 
aroused,  and  she  was  resolved  to  win, 
by  fair  means  or  foul. 

Ainslee  deliberated  a  moment  as  to 
how  he  should  greet  her  after  the  prom 
ise  he  had  made  his  wife;  but  wishing 
to  avoid  an  open  rupture,  at  least  until 
he  had  gained  possession  of  his  letters, 
he  went  toward  her  and  said,  in  a  friend 
ly  way: 


in 


ii2  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"What,  Renee,  all  alone?" 

She  glanced  up  and  smiled.  "Yes;  I 
was  waiting  to  give  you  these,"  she  an 
swered,  handing  him  the  packet  she 
held  in  her  hand. 

"Thank you,"  he  said  taking  the  let 
ters  without  glancing  at  them.  "  Most 
women  would  have  kept  them." 

For  a  moment  Renee  was  silent. 
Then,  with  a  sudden  impulse,  she  left 
her  seat  and,  turning  toward  him,  said 
quickly: 

"Why  did  you  ask  for  them?  Do  you 
mistrust  me  so?" 

"  No,  he  replied,  throwing  the  letters 
into  the  fire  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  "but  a 
dead  past  is  never  buried." 

"  Did  it  never  occur  to  you  that  I 
might  hate  you?"  she  said,  in  a  tone  of 
bitterness. 

"You  never  cared  enough  for  that." 

For  a  moment  they  watched  the 
burning  letters. 

"So  you  think  love  is  only  a  mo 
mentary  blaze,  like  that?"  she  said,  fi 
nally. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  113 

"  It  is  dangerous  to  play  with  fire," 
he  answered.  "  Only  friendship  is  last- 
ing." 

"  Friendship  is  too  cheap  to  be  worth 
having,"  she  sneered. 

"And  love  is  too  expensive  to  be 
worth  while." 

"Your  wife  and  Norman  Wendell 
don't  seem  to  think  so." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  cried,  look 
ing  up  suddenly  and  meeting  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  she  replied,  turning 
away  from  the  fire  and  placing  her  muff 
carelessly  on  the  table.  "  But  if  I  were 
a  married  man,  I  should  never  have  a 
best  friend." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  say  that,"  he 
said  angrily." 

"Why,  what  have  I  said?" 

"No  more  than  the  world  says,  I 
suppose.  Life  is  made  up  of  some 
people's  misery  and  what  other  people 
say  about  it." 

She  looked  at  him  meaningly. 

"  The  way  to  avoid  misery  is  not  to 
run  away  from  happiness." 


ii4  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Happiness!"  he  laughed,  "at  the 
price  of  self-respect?  No! " 

"  Marriage  has  made  a  prig  of  you," 
she  exclaimed.  "  Why  don't  you  teach 
your  wife  this  new-found  morality — she 
needs  it." 

Ainslee  clenched  his  hands  together. 

"  If  a  man  said  that,"  he  muttered, 
"  I'd  knock  him  down." 

"  And  when  a  woman  says  it?" 

"  I  can  only  laugh,"  he  answered, 
turning  away  and  gazing  into  the  fire. 

She  came  toward  him  and  stood  be 
side  him  for  a  moment,  so  that  her  arm 
touched  his.  "  There  are  none  so  blind 
as  those  who  won't  see,"  she  said, 
softly.  "And — and  revenge  would  be 
so  easy."  He  felt  the  pressure  of  her 
hand.  "Are  you  never  tempted?"  she 
whispered,  passionately. 

"You  tempted  me  once,"  he  said 
meeting  her  glance. 

"  And  now?     Have  you  forgotten?  " 

"  I  see  no  reason  for  remembering," 
he  said,  coldly,  turning  his  eyes  away. 
Then  seeing  Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs  and  her 


THE    IDLE    BORN  115 

suite  approaching,  he  left  her  and 
walked  toward  them. 

"  Take  care!"  Renee  muttered  under 
her  breath.  "  I  have  not  forgotten, 
and  I  may  find  a  way  to  make  you 
remember." 

She  sat  down  by  the  fire  again  and 
stealthily  watched  the  proceedings, 
while  pretending  to  be  absorbed  in  a 
book. 

The  departure  of  Mrs.  Dobbs  was 
the  signal  for  the  breaking  up  of  the 
party.  Charlier-Duval  followed  in  her 
train,  and  so  did  Mrs.  Jones-Smythe, 
while  Dickie  Willing,  for  the  purpose 
of  teasing  Eveline,  permitted  himself 
to  be  captured  by  the  simpering  Mabel 
and  led  away,  much  to  the  annoyance 
of  Miss  Innocence,  who,  unaccustomed 
to  such  wiles,  retired  upstairs  to  weep 
over  the  infidelity  of  mankind  in  general 
and  Dickie  in  particular.  Norman 
Wendell,  meanwhile,  tarried  over  the 
cups  with  Margaret,  not  unobserved, 
however,  by  Renee  Dressier,  who 
quietly  moved  her  seat  so  she  could 


n6  THE    IDLE    BORN 

watch  them  through  the  door  of  the 
drawing-room. 

When  Ainslee  returned  from  seeing 
Mrs.  Ferry  Dobbs  to  the  door  he  passed 
by  Mrs.  Dressier  without  apparently 
noticing  her. 

"  Really,  Schuyler,"  she  protested, 
leaving  her  seat.  "  Am  I  to  be  ignored 
as  well  as  forgotten?" 

Ainslee  turned  at  the  sound  of  her 
voice. 

"I  beg  pardon,"  he  said,  'I  thought 
you  were  having  tea." 

"Oh,  dear,  no;  I  was  waiting — like  a 
woman  for  the  last  word."  Then  she 
paused  and  looked  at  him  curiously. 
"Which  must  be ?" 

"  Which  must  be  good-bye,"  he  an 
swered,  coldly. 

"  Or  good  riddance,"  she  said,  with 
an  indifferent  laugh. 

"  Don't  be  sarcastic,"  he  protested. 
"  After  all,  it  is  the  only  way." 

"  For  you !     But  what  of  me  ?  " 

"  I  can't  change  the  past,  even  though 
I  should  regret  it." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  117 

"  That  would  be  an  edifying  spec 
tacle,"  she  sneered.  "  The  converted 
Mr.  Ainslee  regretting  his  past! " 

Margaret  left  her  seat  by  the  tea 
table  and  came  slowly  toward  them, 
followed  by  Norman  Wendell.  They 
were  apparently  in  earnest  conversa 
tion,  and  Ainslee's  back  being  turned, 
he  did  not  see  his  wife.  With  a  quick 
glance  Renee  Dressier  took  in  the  sit 
uation  and  formed  a  plan  for  revenge. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  turning  to  Ains 
lee,  and  extending  her  hand,  "the  last 
word." 

"  Come  Renee,"  said  Ainslee,  "  we'd 
better  part  friends." 

"  No,"  she  answered,  watching  Mar 
garet  carefully.  "  Having  ceased  to  be 
lovers,  we'd  better  part  enemies." 

"  Enemies!  "  he  exclaimed. 

Renee  saw  Margaret  start  back  in 
surprise.  It  was  her  opportunity. 

"  Yes,"  she  whispered.  "  Remember 
— women  do  not  forget  as  easily  as  men, 
and — they  get  even  in  the  end."  Then 
she  threw  her  arms  about  Ainslee's  neck 


n8  THE    IDLE    BORN 

and  cried,  passionately:  "You  love  me 
— you  love  me!  I  knew  it.  Tell  me 
again  that  you  love  me! " 

With  a  cry  of  pain,  Margaret  seized 
Wendell's  arm.  "Oh,  did  you  see?" 
she  exclaimed,  her  face  white  with 
rage. 

Ainslee  saw  his  wife,  and  the  mean 
ing  of  Renee  Dressler's  action  dawned 
upon  him.  "  Renee,  for  God's  sake 
don't  you  see?"  he  cried,  disengaging 
himself  from  her  sudden  embrace. 

Renee  looked  at  him  with  a  dazed 
expression.  Then,  turning  toward 
Margaret,  she  quickly  assumed  a  man 
ner  of  intense  embarrassment,  and 
was  for  the  moment  confused  and 
speechless. 

"  Oh,"  she  gasped  finally,  "  this  is 
most  embarrassing  —  quite  compro 
mising,  in  fact."  She  looked  helplessly 
from  one  to  the  other,  and,  turning  to 
Ainslee,  said,  with  a  sickly  smile : 
"  Really,  Schuyler,  we  ought  to  be  more 
careful." 

The   scene   was   cleverly  acted,  and 


THE    IDLE    BORN  119 

produced  its  effect.  Margaret,  white 
with  anger,  started  toward  her,  but 
Wendell  grasped  her  arm  hurriedly. 

"  Don't! "  he  cried.  "  She  is  trying  to 
humiliate  you." 

Mrs.  Dressier,  smiling  sweetly,  walked 
toward  Margaret. 

"  Good-bye,  my  dear,"  she  said.  "  I've 
had  such  a  charming  afternoon.  Your 
husband  has  been  so  entertaining.  But 
he  ought  to  take  lessons  from  Mr. 
Wendell — he's  really  quite  a  novice." 

She  put  out  her  hand.  Margaret 
turned  her  back  abruptly. 

Renee  Dressier  shrugged  her  shoul 
ders,  and  laughed;  then,  with  a  familiar 
nod  to  Schuyler,  she  walked  out  of  the 
room,  leaving  her  muff  intentionally  on 
the  table. 

Margaret  sank  into  a  chair  and  cov 
ered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  In  my  house — before  my  eyes!"  she 
moaned.  "  Oh,  this  is  unendurable." 

Ainslee  stood  there  like  one  stunned. 
He  could  not  realize  that  any  woman 
could  do  such  a  dastardly  thing  for 


120  THE    IDLE    BORN 

the  sake  of  a  miserable  revenge.  He 
tried  to  think,  but  his  brain  refused 
to  work.  He  could  only  wonder  at 
such  cruelty. 

Wendell  was  the  first  to  speak. 
Angry  at  the  insult  to  Margaret,  he 
stepped  toward  Ainslee. 

"And  this  is  how  you  keep  your 
promise?"  he  cried. 

Ainslee  started  furiously.  "  Yes,"  he 
muttered,  "a  damned  sight  better  than 
you  keep  yours." 

On  the  impulse  of  the  moment 
Wendell  raised  his  hand  to  strike. 

"  No,  no,"  screamed  Margaret,  throw 
ing  herself  between  them.  "  For  my 
sake,  don't! " 

"Well,"  said  Wendell,  coldly,  "for 
your  sake." 

For  a  moment  the  two  men  glared  at 
each  other.  Then  Wendell  turned  on 
his  heel  and  left  the  room. 


V 


Do  not  plunge  thyself  too  far  in  anger,  lest  thou 
hasten  thy  trial. 

— All's  Well  that  Ends  Well. 

When  the  sound  of  Wendell's  foot 
steps  had  died  away  Ainslee  turned 
toward  his  wife.  She  had  gone  to  the 
window  and  was  looking  out  at  the 
bleak  expanse  of  the  park.  Instead 
of  tears,  there  was  a  bitter,  injured 
look  in  her  eyes,  and  her  lips  were 
pressed  together  firmly.  Renee  Dress- 
ler's  blow  had  been  so  sudden  and 
cruel  that  in  her  anger  she  did  not 
realize  the  awfulness  of  her  position. 
But  she  knew  that  confidence  was 
dead;  that  the  end  had  come — the  end 
of  everything. 

Ainslee  watched  her  for  a  moment, 
not  daring  to  break  the  silence.  The 
trap  had  been  so  carefully  set,  and  he 
had  been  led  into  it  so  cleverly,  that  he 

121 


i22  THE    IDLE    BORN 

was  utterly  at  a  loss  for  an  explanation. 
But  the  consciousness  that  he  had  done 
no  wrong  prompted  him  to  appeal  to 
her  sense  of  justice,  with  the  hope  that 
she  would  believe  the  truth. 

"  Margaret,"  he  said,  finally. 

She  turned  and  looked  him  full  in  the 
eyes. 

"Well?" 

Her  calmness  frightened  him. 

"  How  can  I  explain  what  you  have 
just  seen?"  he  faltered. 

"You  needn't  explain,"  she  answered. 
"You  may  spare  yourself  the  trouble." 

"  You  wouldn't  condemn  me  un 
heard?"  he  protested. 

"  I  don't  condemn  you  —  you  have 
condemned  yourself." 

"  Don't  be  unjust,"  he  said,  taking  a 
step  toward  her. 

"You  have  deceived  me  from  the 
first,"  she  answered,  bitterly. 

"I  have  not,"  he  exclaimed.  "She 
was  desperate.  It  was  impulse — revenge 
— God  knows  what." 

"  Don't    be    a    coward,"    she    said. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  123 

"Don't  sacrifice  her  to  save  your 
self." 

"  I  have  a  right  to  protect  myself," 
he  protested;  "can't  you  see  I  am  telling 
the  truth?" 

"  Why  lie  to  me  any  more?  "  she  re 
plied,  turning  away  wearily.  "  Does  a 
woman  throw  herself  into  a  man's  arms 
for  nothing?" 

"  If  it  were  true,  if  I  were  her  lover," 
he  said,  angrily,  "  I'd  be  man  enough  to 
acknowledge  it." 

"  But  I  heard — I  saw  with  my  own 
eyes." 

For  a  moment  he  looked  at  her  re 
proachfully.  "  What  if  I  were  to  doubt 
your  sincerity?"  he  said,  finally.  "What 
if  I  were  to  believe  what  people  tell  me 
about  you  and  Wendell?" 

With  a  cry  of  pain  she  turned  and 
faced  him,  her  eyes  flashing  with  anger. 

"And  if  it  were  true,  would  I  be  the 
first  woman  to  seek  elsewhere  for  the 
love  she  failed  to  find  at  home?" 

He  seized  her  hand  and  drew  her 
toward  him.  "  I  know  it  is  only  my 


i24  THE    IDLE    BORN 

word  against  hers — but  can't  you  see  it 
is  not  true? — that  I  love  you,  not  her? 
Will  nothing  I  can  say  convince  you? 
Does  your  heart  tell  you  nothing?" 

She  thought  of  the  words  of  an  hour 
before,  and  the  lie  he  had  told  her. 

"  My  heart,"  she  laughed;  "you  had 
all  my  heart,  all  my  love — and  the  chance 
to  prove  that  I  might  trust  you." 

"And  you  have  the  chance  to  make 
me  feel  it  is  worth  while  to  be  straight 
and  square  —  the  chance  to  forgive. 
Don't  throw  it  away." 

With  a  shudder  she  drew  her  hand 
away.  It  was  not  in  her  heart  to  for 
give. 

"You  ask  too  much,"  she  said. 
"  Some  day  you  may  know  what  it  is  to 
suffer.  I  hope  you  may." 

"You  can't  go  like  this,"  he  cried. 
"  You  must  listen  to  me." 

"What  is  the  use?"  she  said  disdain 
fully.  "  When  trust  is  gone,  love  is 
gone.  So  why  pretend?" 

Without  a  word  he  turned  and  walked 
slowly  toward  the  door  of  his  own  room; 


THE    IDLE    BORN  125 

then  he  stood  for  a  moment  on  the 
threshold  watching  her. 

"Margaret!"  he  cried,  impulsively. 

She  did  not  answer. 

"  Not  one  word?"  Well,  as  you  will 
— and  God  help  us  both." 

When  he  had  gone  she  looked  up 
suddenly  and  laughed. 

"  So  this  is  the  end,  and  my  poor  little 
heaven  was  only  a  fools'  paradise — a 
miserable  house  of  cards,  to  tumble 
over  at  the  merest  touch.  Oh,  it  seemed 
so  beautiful  to-day."  The  tears  came 
at  last,  and  she  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands  and  sobbed.  But  it  brought 
no  relief.  With  a  sudden  effort  she 
dried  her  eyes  and  gazed  about  the 
room. 

"Well,  I  shall  go  on  living,  I  suppose. 
People  never  die  when  the  fire  is  burned 
out." 

Her  hand  fell  upon  the  table  and 
touched  something  warm  and  soft.  It 
was  Renee  Dressler's  muff,  and  for  a 
moment  she  stroked  it  abstractedly; 
then  she  held  it  up  before  her  eyes. 


i26  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Her  muff!"  she  said.  "Soft  and 
furry,  like  the  owner.  B-r-r-r — I  can 
almost  hear  her  purr." 

With  a  quick  impulse  she  seized  the 
muff  with  both  her  hands  and  shook  it 
resentfully.  An  envelope  dropped  to 
the  floor  and  lay  there  with  the  address 
exposed. 

"Schuyler's  writing!"  she  exclaimed. 
Picking  up  the  letter,  she  tore  it 
quickly  from  the  envelope  and  read: 

"  'N.  W.  is  going  to  the  country,  so  meet  me  at 
the  studio  at  half-past  eleven.  The  door  will  be  open 
so  don't  ring.'  " 

For  a  moment  she  sat  gazing  at  the 
floor.  Then,  with  a  start,  she  crumpled 
the  letter  in  her  hand. 

"  To-night,"  she  muttered,  jumping  to 
her  feet.  "After  the  opera — when  he 
says  he  goes  to  the  club." 

For  a  while  she  paced  the  floor,  think 
ing  of  the  events  that  had  brought  forth 
this  new  insult. 

"Fool! "she  said;  "does  he  think  I 
will  sit  here  meekly  and  let  this  go 
on? "  Then  she  paused,  and  placed  her 


THE    IDLE    BORN  127 

hands  over  her  eyes.  "  Let  me  think! 
Let  me  think! "  she  muttered.  "  Yes — 
yes— I'll  do  it." 

In  pursuance  of  the  wild  plan  she  had 
formed  she  went  to  the  table  and  rang 
the  bell;  then  she  smoothed  out  the  let 
ter  and  placed  it  carefully  in  the  muff 
as  she  had  found  it. 

"Will  he  lie  to  me  again?"  she  said, 
rubbing  the  fur  against  her  face.  "Will 
he  beg  and  implore  forgiveness?  Oh, 
to  meet  them  face  to  face! " 

"Did  you  ring,  madam?"  asked  the 
servant  who  had  answered  the  bell. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  quickly.  "  Take 
this  muff  to  Mrs.  Dressier.  There  is  a 
letter  inside;  be  careful  not  to  lose  it." 

"Very  good,  madam,"  replied  the 
man. 

Margaret  walked  to  the  window.  It 
was  snowing. 

"And  I  might  have  been  weak  enough 
to  forgive!"  she  said,  finally. 

Lady  Coldstream  came  into  the  room. 
"  I  say,  Margaret,"  she  asked,  "  isn't  it 
time  to  dress?" 


128  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  I  shall  not  go  to  the  opera  to-night," 
answered  Margaret,  decidedly. 

Lady  Coldstream  shrugged  her 
shoulders. 


PART    III 

ANOTHER    EVENING 


I 

I  were  unmannerly  to  take  you  out, 
And  not  to  kiss  you. 

-Henry  VIII. 

Dickie  Willing  threw  open  the  door 
of  Norman  Wendell's  studio  so  uncere 
moniously  that  Eveline  entered  without 
a  question.  His  evident  familiarity  with 
the  premises  robbed  her  of  all  suspicion 
and  she  had  just  time  to  see  that  she 
was  standing  at  the  top  of  a  short  flight 
of  stairs,  and  that  there  were  vague 
forms  of  easels  and  men  in  armor  be 
yond,  when  the  hall  door  closed  sud 
denly  behind  her,  and  she  was  left  in 
Cimmerian  obscurity. 

"Why,  it's  dark!"  she  exclaimed, 
drawing  back  in  fright. 

"  Rather,"  chuckled  Dickie.  "  Let's 
play  going  through  a  tunnel.  Bully 
game  for  two."  Whereupon  he  promptly 
kissed  her. 


132  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"If  you  do  that  again  I'll  scream!" 
cried  Eveline,  struggling  to  free  herself. 

"Can't,"  he  laughed;  "  it's  against  the 
rules  of  the  game."  And  in  spite  of  her 
struggles  he  kissed  her  again.  How 
ever,  if  the  truth  must  be  known,  a  girl 
is  never  kissed  twice  against  her  will, 
even  in  the  dark. 

"Stop,  Dickie!"  she  expostulated, 
with  as  much  indignation  as  might  be 
expected  from  a  convent-bred  young 
lady  who  was  experiencing  a  very 
wicked  sensation  without  the  slightest 
chance  of  being  found  out.  "  If  you 
don't  stop,  I'll  never  look  at  you  again." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  laughed  the  art 
ful  Dickie,  turning  the  switch  of  the 
electric  light.  "Ha!  Rather  neat, 
what?"  he  chuckled,  as  the  lofty  study 
was  brought  suddenly  into  view. 

For  a  moment  Eveline  gazed  in  be 
wilderment  at  the  armor,  the  tapestries 
and  the  rare  old  furniture,  gathered 
from  many  lands  by  a  lover  of  the  beau 
tiful.  Then  she  realized  that  a  young 
woman  in  her  position  must  show  some 


THE    IDLE    BORN  133 

spirit;  so,  glaring  at  Dickie  resentfully 
she  walked  down  the  stairs  with  a 
haughty  tread. 

"  I'll — I'll  never  speak  to  you  again," 
she  said,  when  she  felt  that  a  safe  dis 
tance  separated  her  from  her  audacious 
companion. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  very  well.  There  are 
others,"  and  Dickie  Willing  strode  into 
the  room  with  a  swagger  that  gave  em 
phasis  to  his  indifference. 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  Mabel  Smythe," 
said  Eveline,  with  feminine  disregard 
of  her  threat. 

"Didn't  say  so,  did  I?" 

"  I  suppose  you've  kissed  her,  too?" 

"And  the  girl  guessed  right  the  very 
first  time."  Whereupon  the  inconsider 
ate  Dickie  proceeded  to  whistle  the  re 
frain  of  a  popular  song  in  which  the  boy 
is  supposed  to  do  the  guessing. 

Eveline  did  not  reply.  Tossing  her 
head  disdainfully,  she  proceeded  to  ex 
amine  a  Florentine  marriage  coffer  with 
the  air  of  a  connaisseur,  although,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  she  thought  it  must  be  a 


i34  THE    IDLE    BORN 

coffin  or  a  mummy-case.  She  began, 
however,  to  realize  her  position.  Some 
thing  must  have  happened  to  Lady 
Coldstream,  and  there  she  was,  alone  in 
a  bachelor's  apartments  with  Dickie 
Willing. 

"Oh,  I  wish  they'd  come!"  she  said, 
glancing  toward  the  door  anxiously.  "I 
knew  something  would  happen." 

"Well,  it  happened  all  right,  all  right," 
answered  Dickie,  gleefully,  tripping 
toward  her  in  a  manner  that  foreboded 
evil  intent. 

"That  will  do,  Mr.  Willing,"  said  Eve 
line,  gently  but  firmly  displacing  the 
arm  with  which  he  had  surrounded  her 
waist.  "You  know  I  am  here  without  a 
chaperon." 

"Rather!"  chuckled  Dickie.  "That's 
why  I  embraced  the  opportunity." 

"Mr.  Willing,"  exclaimed  Eveline, 
haughtily,  "I  am  not  an  opportunity!" 
Whereupon  she  withdrew  to  the  farther 
end  of  the  room  and  turned  her  back. 

Dickie  looked  after  her  disconsolate 
ly.  "Oh,  I  am  enjoying  myself,"  he 


THE    IDLE    BORN  135 

muttered,  as  he  went  to  the  wall  and 
pushed  the  electric  bell,  suiting  the  ac 
tion  with  the  words:  "  Did  anyone  say 
drinks?" 

But  Eveline  was  in  no  mood  for  ba 
dinage.  She  was  thoroughly  frightened 
at  her  predicament  and  ashamed  of  her 
part  in  the  escapade.  So  she  paid  no 
attention  to  Dickie's  efforts  to  be  funny; 
and  he,  finding  that  he  was  very  much 
out  of  it,  came  toward  her  sorrowfully, 
and  said,  in  a  pleading  tone: 

"  I  say,  won't  you  forgive  me  ?  I'll  be 
good  next  time." 

Eveline  looked  at  him  scornfully. 
"  Never,  so  long  as  I  live!" 

"Then  I  hope  you'll  die  young,"  an 
swered  the  incorrigible  youth. 

"Brute!"  she  cried. 

At  that  moment  Wendell's  man  en 
tered  in  answer  to  Dickie's  summons, 
and  further  hostilities  were  averted. 

"  Did  you  ring,  sir?"  said  the  servant, 
sleepily.  Then,  seeing  Eveline  and 
Dickie,he  continued,  in  evident  perplex 
ity:  "I  beg  pardon,  sir,  I  thought  it  was 


i36  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Mr.  Wendell.  Shall  I  tell  him  you  are 
here,  sir?" 

"  No,  Parker,  no,"  answered  Dickie, 
with  a  prohibitive  gesture.  "  I'm  it." 
Then,  swelling  his  chest  to  its  proudest 
dimensions,  he  continued,  authorita 
tively:  "We  will  feast,  Parker — on  Mr. 
Wendell.  We  will  drink,  Parker — on 
Mr.  Wendell.  There  will  be  seven  of 
us  without  Mr.  Wendell — he  can  wait." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  was  the  imperturb 
able  response.  But  Eveline,  who  was 
now  becoming  thoroughly  provoked  by 
Dickie's  imbecility,  interupted  the  pro 
ceedings. 

"  Perhaps  you'll  be  good  enough  to 
stop  this  nonsense,"  she  said  to  him, 
"and  let  the  man  tell  Mr.  Wendell  we 
are  here." 

"  Sorry  to  disoblige  a  lady,"  he  re 
plied;  "but  this  is  a  surprise  party,  and 
the  other  surprises  have  not  yet  arriv 
ed."  And,  turning  to  the  servant,  he 
continued  his  commands  regardless  of 
Eveline's  protests:  "  Get  the  chafing 
dishes  ready,  Parker — plenty  of  cold 


THE    IDLE    BORN  137 

beer  and   enough  whisky  and  soda  to 
quench  my  thirst." 

Parker's  stereotyped  reply  of  "  Very 
good,  sir,"  preceded  his  exit  from  the 
room,  and  as  the  door  closed  behind 
him,  Eveline  gave  Willing  a  glance  of 
withering  scorn  and  turned  her  back; 
whereupon  he  went  to  the  piano,  and 
with  one  finger  and  a  great  deal  of  pains 
picked  out  the  notes  of  the  familiar 
song:  "  There's  only  One  Girl  in  this 
World  for  Me."  This  delicate  compli 
ment  softened  the  ire  of  Eveline  to  the 
extent  of  making  her  glance  stealthily 
over  her  shoulder  at  the  crafty  Dickie, 
who,  seizing  this  opportunity  to  display 
his  indifference,  pounded  out  the  notes 
of  "There  are  Other  Coons  as  Warm  as 
You,"  much  to  Eveline's  disgust  and  his 
own  merriment. 


II 

In  fair  Bohemia. 

—  The   Winter's  Tale. 

When  Mrs.  Dressier  entered  the  stu 
dio  a  moment  later  she  leaned  over  the 
banister  to  survey  the  situation.  Dickie 
was  pounding  the  piano  with  his  inde 
fatigable  finger,  and  Eveline  was  care 
fully  ensconced  in  a  far-way  corner,with 
her  back  turned  upon  him  and  an  ex 
pression  of  offended  dignity  on  her 
pretty  face. 

"  There's  a  Gibson  picture  for  you," 
she  laughed.  "  Find  the  girl  who's  just 
been  kissed." 

However,  Nicholas  Schuyler,  her  com 
panion,  did  not  appreciate  the  persiflage 
of  the  situation.  Furious  at  discover 
ing  his  daughter  alone  with  a  man  at 
midnight,  he  rushed  toward  Eveline,  his 
face  growing  redder  with  every  stride. 


140  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Where's  Lady  Coldstream ? "  he 
shouted. 

Eveline  blushed  and  tried  to  stam 
mer  an  excuse,  but  Dickie  whisked 
about  on  his  piano  stool  and  manfully 
entered  the  breach. 

"  Oh,  don't  worry  about  Lady  Cold- 
stream,"  he  drawled.  "She's  old  enough 
to  take  care  of  herself." 

"  Sir!"  hissed  Nicholas  Schuyler: 
"wait  till  you  are  spoken  to." 

"  Oh,  I  am  enjoying  myself!"  Dickie 
exclaimed,  as  he  gave  his  stool  another 
twist  and  proceeded  to  finger  the  notes 
of  "  There'll  Be  a  Hot  Time  in  the  Old 
Town  To-night."  Owing  to  the  slow 
ness  with  which  his  repertory  was  mas 
tered,  Dickie's  music,  though  express 
ive  was  invariably  a  season  or  two  be 
hind  the  times,  but  he  had  a  motif  for 
every  occasion  ready  at  hand. 

Meanwhile,  Nicholas  Schuyler  strode 
to  and  fro,  muttering  to  himself,  and 
Renee  Dressier  removed  her  wrap. 

"And  have  you  no  explanation,Miss?" 
exclaimed  the  Knickerbocker,  when  he 


THE     IDLE    BORN  141 

could  control  his  choler  sufficiently  to 
speak. 

"  You  see,  papa,"  Eveline  faltered, 
"when  we  left  the  opera  the  carriage 
wasn't  there — because  it  was  only  the 
third  act — so  we  took  two  cabs.  Well, 
Lady  Coldstream  insisted  upon  going 
with  Mr.  Dressier  and  sending  us  ahead. 
She  said  they  would  follow.  Well,  they 
must  have  got  lost.  Really,  papa,  I 
couldn't  help  it." 

"Scandalous!  Scandalous!"  muttered 
the  old  gentleman.  "  Follow,  indeed! 
Lady  Coldstream  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  herself!" 

The  diatribe  was  well  timed,  for  at 
this  moment  the  English  beauty  de 
scended  the  stairs. 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  she  drawled,  lan 
guidly,  at  the  mention  of  her  name. 

Mr.  Schuyler's  colors  were,  however, 
nailed  to  the  mast.  "  Yes,  scandalous," 
he  repeated,  defiantly.  "  The  idea  of 
allowing  my  daughter  to  go  about  New 
York  at  this  hour  of  the  night  alone 
with  a  young  man.  I  repeat,  madam, 


i42  THE    IDLE    BORN 

you   ought    to   be    ashamed   of    your 
self." 

"Well,  I'm  not/'said  Lady  Coldstream, 
laconically,  as  Monty  Dressier  removed 
her  sortie  de  bal,  and  she  stepped  for 
ward  in  all  the  radiance  of  a  superbly 
fitting  gown  and  the  famous  Coldstream 
pearls.  "  Fancy  wasting  one's  time 
watching  a  girl!  She's  sure  to  catch 
you  asleep  sooner  or  later,  and  when 
she  does  she'll  make  up  for  lost  time — 
if  she's  any  sort  of  a  girl." 

Seeing  that  Lady  Coldstream  was 
incorrigible,  the  irate  father  vented  his 
spleen  upon  the  unfortunate  Willing. 

"As  for  you,  sir,"  he  said,  turning 
upon  him  sharply,  "  I  forbid  you  ever  to 
enter  my  house  again." 

"Oh,  I  am  enjoying  myself,"  mut 
tered  the  disconsolate  Dickie,  as  he 
gave  expression  to  his  feelings  with 
the  one-fingered  monody,  "  You  Can't 
Play  in  My  Yard,"  while  the  angry 
Knickerbocker  turned  his  back  and 
began  to  inflict  on  Monty  Dressier 
a  dissertation  upon  the  duties  of  the 


THE   IDLE   BORN  143 

modern  parent.  He  had  brought 
Eveline  up,  as  he  assured  Monty,  un- 
contaminated  by  the  world,  and,  gra 
cious  though  he  was  by  nature,  his 
temper  was  uncontrollable  toward  those 
who  sought  to  infect  his  daughter  with 
the  poisonous  influences  of  modern 
society. 

"What  made  you  so  late,"  asked 
Renee  Dressier  of  Lady  Coldstream, 
with  the  commendable  desire  of  re 
lieving  the  situation. 

"  Why,  that  beast  of  a  cabman  got 
lost — took  us  way  to  Central  Park." 

"Fancy  getting  lost  with  Monty!" 
said  Mrs.  Dressier  sympathetically. 

Lady  Coldstream  smiled. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  appreciate 
Monty.  He  got  quite  forward  in  the  cab." 

"  I  know,"  mused  Mrs.  Dressier. 
"A  husband  is  like  an  umbrella — 
when  you  lose  him  always  suspect  a 
friend." 

"By  Jove!"  exclaimed  the  English 
beauty.  "When  Coldstream  got  lost  I 
always  suspected " 


i44  THE   IDLE   BORN 

"  Careful,"  interrupted  Monty,  who 
was  listening  with  one  ear.  "Youthful 
innocence  is  with  us." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  so  innocent,"  protested 
Eveline. 

"Yes,  Eveline's  getting  on,"  Lady 
Coldstream  said,  with  a  knowing 
look.  "  But  I  say,  where's  Mr.  Wen 
dell?" 

"Puzzle:  Find  the  man  who's  giving 
the  party,"  queried  Mrs.  Dressier,  with 
a  glance  about  the  studio. 

"  He  isn't  giving  the  party,"  laughed 
Lady  Coldstream.      "  I'm    giving   the 
party — the  joke's  on  him." 
*   "  Oh,  I  see.    When  you  asked  me  I 
thought  it  rather  strange." 

"  The  sinners  are  here,  Mr.  Willing. 
But  where  is  the  publican?  I,  for  one, 
am  thirsty,"  said  Lady  Coldstream, 
turning  to  Dickie. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  answered, 
with  a  meaning  look  at  Eveline.  "  I 
wasn't  looking  for  Wendell." 

"  If  you  dare  tell,"  expostulated 
Eveline,  with  evident  fright. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  145 

"  Oh,  I  was  enjoying  myself,"  Dickie 
chuckled  to  himself. 

"  Well,  find  him,  silly,"  interrupted 
Lady  Coldstream,  sharply.  Where 
upon  Dickie  ambled  leisurely  toward 
the  door  of  Norman  Wendell's  bed 
room,  and  rapping  loudly,  called,  in 
imitation  of  the  falsetto  tones  of  Bertie 
Beacher:  "Wake  up,  Dobbs;  you're 
wanted!" 

The  mandate,  however,  brought  no  re 
sponse,  so  Dickie  rapped  again — in  vain. 

"  Open  the  door,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Dressier. 

"  Can't  —  it's  locked, "  answered 
Dickie  after  a  vigorous  rattling  of  the 
door-knob. 

"  Rather  suspicious, "  said  Lady 
Coldstream.  "  These  artists,  you 
know." 

Dickie  pounded  again  in  a  manner  to 
wake  the  dead,  and  at  last  the  reponse: 
"Hello!  Who's  there?"  came  faintly 
through  the  door. 

"  We  want  you,"  called  Lady  Cold- 
stream. 


i46  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"We  want  supper,"  shouted  Dickie 
Willing. 

"Wait,"  was  the  muffled  rejoinder, 
"  I'll  be  out  in  a  minute." 

So  the  besiegers  awaited  the  capitu 
lation,  and  meanwhile  Nicholas  Schuy- 
ler  vociferated  his  opinion  to  the  long- 
suffering  Monty. 

"  I  tell  you,"  he  exclaimed,  "  society 
is  going  to  the  dogs.  The  young  girls 
know  everything,  and  the  married 
women  do  everything." 

"  Rather,"  chuckled  Monty.  "  It's  no 
longer  a  privilege  to  be  a  man." 

"  In  my  day,  women  were  women." 

"And  men  were  brutes,"  interrupted 
Lady  Coldstream.  "Just  as  they  are 
now." 

The  Knickerbocker's  glance  was  in 
tended  to  convey  contempt,  but  as 
Lady  Coldstream  only  laughed,  he  felt 
it  had  been  futile,  so  he  turned  on  his 
heel  and  went  to  the  window  seat,  where 
he  ensconced  himself  in  a  comfortable 
corner  and  went  to  sleep,  with  the  firm 
conviction  that  he  was  justified  in  main- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  147 

taining  that  society  was  going  to  the 
dogs  when  such  vulgar  creatures  as 
Lady  Coldstream  were  its  representa 
tives. 

The  bolts  were  withdrawn  at  last, 
and  Norman  Wendell,  with  a  sleepy, 
disheveled  appearance,  came  into  the 
room  and  rubbed  his  eyes. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  you  people  seem  to 
have  taken  possession." 

"  Rather,"  growled  Dickie  Willing. 
"  Couldn't  find  anything  else  worth 
taking." 

"To  whom  am  I  indebted  for  this 
surprise  party?"  Wendell  continued, 
looking  about  at  the  friends  who  had 
so  calmly  possessed  themselves  of  his 
studio. 

"  To  me,"  replied  Lady  Coldstream, 
quite  unabashed.  "  You  looked  so 
bored  at  the  opera  I  thought  you  needed 
cheering  up  a  bit." 

"Yes;  I  couldn't  stand  but  two  acts, 
so  came  home  early.  I  was  reading, 
and  must  have  fallen  asleep." 

"  Do  you  always  lock  the  door  when 


i48  THE    IDLE    BORN 

you  read?"  asked  Mrs.  Dressier,  perti 
nently. 

"  Yes.  When  the  fellows  next  door 
get  thirsty  they  make  a  raid.  I  don't 
mind  their  helping  themselves,  but  I  do 
object  to  being  routed  out." 

"You  were  so  long  about  opening  the 
door,"  suggested  Dressier,  with  a  know 
ing  look,  "  that  we  thought  perhaps  you 
were  not  alone." 

"That  would  have  been  a  surprise 
party,"  laughed  Lady  Coldstream. 

"  Nothing  so  interesting, "  said 
Wendell.  "  I  was  merely  asleep  in  a 
beautiful  pink  dressing-gown — nothing 
worse.  But  how  about  supper?" 

"  Oh,  I've  ordered  supper,  all  right, 
all  right,"  was  Dickie's  reassuring  re 
sponse.  "Think  I'll  see  how  it's  coming 
on."  Whereupon  he  made  a  hasty  exit 
in  the  direction  of  the  dining-room. 

"Well,  I  suppose  you're  all  here," 
said  Wendell,  with  an  effort  to  view  the 
situation  as  cheerfully  as  possible. 

"  Margaret's  ill,  but  Schuyler  said 
he'd  come,"  answered  Lady  Cold- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  149 

stream,  arranging  the  cushions  on  the 
divan  to  support  her  back.  "  Didn't 
act  as  though  he  wanted  to  though." 

"I  hesitated  myself  about  coming," 
said  Renee  Dressier,  in  a  voice  modu 
lated  for  Wendell's  ear  alone;  "but 
Lady  Coldstream  insisted.  Are  you 
surprised  ? " 

"After  this  afternoon,  your  hesita 
tion,  not  your  coming,  is  the  surprise," 
answered  Wendell,  coldly. 

Renee  Dressier  looked  at  him  in 
tently.  "Come,  don't  be  nasty,"  she 
said.  "We're  both  playing  the  same 
game." 

Wendell  turned  away  in  disgust, 
unwilling  to  honor  such  an  insinuation 
with  a  reply. 

"Why  didn't  you  keep  your  word?" 
she  asked,  quickly. 

"My  word?"  he  exclaimed,  in  sur 
prise. 

"  Yes.  In  the  old  days,  when  you 
said  you  were  going  to  the  country  you 
usually  went." 

There  was  a  photograph  of  Margaret 


i5o  THE    IDLE    BORN 

on  the  ledge  of  an  old  Spanish  cabinet 
near  by.  Mrs.  Dressier  picked  up  the 
picture  and  looked  at  it.  "  But  the 
attractions  of  new  York  were  not  so 
great  then,"  she  said,  as  she  replaced 
the  photograph. 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  my  actions 
concern  you,"  he  answered,  shortly. 

"  Possibly  not.  But  suppose  I  had 
counted  on  your  going.  It  might 
have  been  very  embarrassing,  don't  you 
see?" 

Wendell  looked  at  her  in  amazement. 
Her  audacity  was  beyond  his  compre 
hension.  "  Have  you  no  conscience 
whatever?"  he  asked. 

Renee  Dressier  laughed.  "  Fancy 
having  a  conscience  in  New  York! 
Conscience  is  only  the  fear  of  being 
found  out,  and  so  many  people  are 
found  out  nowadays  that  Mrs.  Ferry 
Dobbs  no  longer  considers  it  a  novelty 
worthy  of  a  dinner." 

"  Mrs.  Dressier,"  said  Wendell,  calm 
ly,  "  you  are  my  guest.  I  can  say  noth 
ing  now." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  151 

"  But  to-morrow,"  she  thought,  as  he 
walked  away,  "  he  will  tell  the  lady 
everything;  and  then,  with  the  letter  as 
corroborative  evidence — well,  we  shall 
see." 

Dickie  Willing  appeared  in  the  door 
of  the  dining-room  armed  with  a  huge 
glass  of  whisky-and-soda  and  a  sand 
wich.  "Oh,  I  am  enjoying  myself,"  he 
murmured,  as  he  drained  his  glass;  but 
he  was  alone  in  his  contentment. 

"I  say,"  yawned  Monty  Dressier. 
"  Isn't  this  party  rather  slow? " 

The  statement  was  not  polite,  but  it 
expressed  the  boredness  of  the  party. 
Wendell,  in  the  role  of  compulsory  host, 
felt  compelled  to  relieve  the  situation 
of  some  of  its  monotony.  So  he  went 
to  Eveline  and  asked  her  to  play  some 
thing. 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  Lady  Coldstream. 
"  One  of  those  nigger  things." 

Eveline  took  the  seat  at  the  piano 
and  rattled  off  "A  Georgia  Camp  Meet 
ing,"  while  Dickie  Willing,  inspired  by 
the  rag-time  music,  seized  Renee  Dress- 


152  THE    IDLE    BORN 

ler's  hand,  and  together  they  performed 
a  sprightly  cake  walk  to  the  accom 
paniment  of  clapping  hands. 

Ainslee  entered  quietly  just  as  the 
merriment  was  at  its  height. 

"  Well,  you  all  seem  pretty  festive," 
he  said,  as  he  removed  his  coat. I 

"You're  just  in  time,"  called  Monty 
Dressier.  "  The  performance  is  only 
half-over." 

'And  after  the  performance,"  shouted 
Dickie,  "  remember  the  concert  in  the 
adjoining  tent.  Tickets  only  ten  cents. 
Gentlemanly  ushers  will  now  pass 
among  you!" 

Someone  started  a  popular  chorus, 
and  as  Parker  threw  back  the  portiere 
of  the  dining-room  Wendell  mounted  a 
chair  and  called  forth  the  welcome  an 
nouncement  of:  "  Supper  is  now  ready 
in  the  dining-car." 

"  Tag — you're  it,"  said  Dickie,  giving 
Renee  Dressier  a  parting  shove  in  the 
direction  of  a  huge  chair,  into  which  she 
fell,  panting  for  breath  after  the  exer 
tion  in  the  cake  walk,  while  Monty 


THE    IDLE     BORN  153 

Dressier  seized  Eveline's  hand  and 
dragged  her  away,  shouting:  "  Come 
on,  Miss  Innocence." 

Wendell  meanwhile  descended  from 
his  point  of  vantage,  and,  extending  his 
arm  to  Lady  Coldstream,  invited  her  to 
"  Come  and  help  feed  the  animals." 

''  Rather,"  exclaimed  the  beauty. 
"  I'm  a  bit  peckish — but  I  say,"  she  con 
tinued,  looking  about  the  room,  "where*  s 
Mr.  Schuyler?" 

"  Behold  the  sleeping  beauty,"  laughed 
Mrs.  Dressier,  pointing  to  the  window 
seat,  where  the  courtly  scion  of  old 
New  York  was  dozing  sweetly,  with 
mouth  wide  open  and  accompany 
ing  noises  dangerously  approximating 
snores. 

"I  say,  Uncle  Nicholas,  wake  up!" 
said  Ainslee,  shaking  him. 

"Why  — why,  what's  the  matter?" 
grunted  the  slumberer,  as  he  opened  his 
eyes  in  a  dazed  sort  of  way  and  gazed 
about  him. 

"Supper — champagne!"  called  Lady 
Coldstream. 


iS4  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"No — beer,"  protested  Wendell 
"  We're  in  Bohemia  now." 

"Aye,"  muttered  the  sexagenarian,  as 
Ainslee  assisted  him  to  his  feet.  "  Bo 
hemia,  the  land  of  the  free  and  the 
home  of  the  beautiful.  Oh,  you  artists ! " 
he  continued,  giving  Wendell  a  friendly 
slap  on  the  back.  "Always  jolly  dogs. 
Perhaps  you  think  I  am  too  old  to  be 
young.  Come,  lead  the  way,  I'm  game 
for  anything." 

Like  a  schoolboy  in  his  teens  he 
capered  merrily  to  the  dining-room,  fol 
lowed  by  Lady  Coldstream  and  the 
host,  while  a  salvo  of  popping  corks 
announced  that  Dickie  Willing  had  dis 
covered  that  champagne  was  not  un 
known  in  the  wilds  of  electric-lighted 
Bohemia. 


Ill 

She  is  too  subtle  for  thee. 

—As  You  Like  It. 

Renee  Dressier  had  purposely  stepped 
aside  to  let  Lady  Coldstream  pass.  By 
this  manoeuvre  she  succeeded  in  barring 
Ainslee's  way  to  the  dining-room. 

"Well,"  she  said,  the  moment  they 
were  alone.  "  Have  you  nothing  to  say 
to  me?" 

Her  attitude  was  penitent,  and  for  a 
moment  he  stared  at  her  in  surprise, 
unable  to  reconcile  this  humble  pose 
with  her  conduct  of  the  afternoon. 

"  Nothing  you  would  care  to  hear," 
he  said,  turning  away  abruptly. 

She  went  toward  him  and  held  out 
her  hands  appealingly.  "  Then  you  re 
fuse  to  forgive?  "  she  pleaded. 

"Good  heavens!"  he  exclaimed, 
"how  can  I?  It  was  so  heartless — so 
indecent!" 


i56  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Renee  bowed  her  head  submissively. 
"  Because  I  ask  it,"  she  said,  "  from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart.  Can  I  do  more?" 

"  You  can  go  to  my  wife  and  tell  her 
the  truth." 

She  started  angrily,  then  checked 
herself.  In  a  moment  she  was  all  hu 
mility  again.  "And  if  I  do  as  you  ask  ?  " 
she  said.  "  If  I  go  to  her  and  humiliate 
myself  for  —  for  your  sake?  What 
then?" 

"  I  may  forgive,"  he  answered,  coldly. 
"  But  it  would  be  hard — even  then." 

"How  can  you  be  so  cruel?"  she 
cried.  "So  unjust — here,  in  this  room! 
If  you  had  any  heart  you  would  remem 
ber." 

"  I  remember  only  too  well.  The  first 
taste  of  love  is  sweet  enough — the  bit 
terness  lies  in  the  dregs." 

He  was  thinking  of  the  time  when  he 
shared  the  studio  with  Wendell,  and 
the  painting  of  her  portrait  made  her 
coming  possible  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  in  spite  of  the  many  days  when 
the  canvas  was  untouched.  Uncon- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  157 

sciously  he  glanced  toward  the  window- 
seat,  and  she  knew  he  was  thinking  of 
the  moments  they  had  passed  together. 

"Ah,  you  do  remember!  I  knew  you 
could  not  forget." 

Norman  Wendell  came  into  the  studio 
to  find  them.  He  saw  her  place  a  hand 
upon  Ainslee's  shoulder,  and  he  drew 
back  quickly.  He  had  no  wish  to  play 
the  eavesdropper,  but  he  could  not  help 
hearing  her  say,  in  a  way  that  made  him 
shudder  at  the  thought  of  Margaret: 
"  Why  are  the  others  here?  Why  are 
we  not  alone?  We  might  have  been." 

Ainslee  looked  into  her  eyes,  and  his 
pulses  throbbed  with  the  mad  longing 
to  hold  her  in  his  arms. 

"See,"  she  whispered  close  to  his  face. 
"  There  is  where  we  used  to  sit.  Think, 
dear,  of  the  old  times." 

For  one  brief  moment  he  hesitated. 
Then,  with  a  sudden  realization  of  her 
treachery,  he  drew  back  in  fear  and 
anger. 

"  Do  you  honestly  think  you  can  trick 
me  again?"  he  exclaimed. 


i58  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Why  won't  you  believe  me?"  she 
said,  with  an  injured  look. 

"  Because  you  taught  me  unbelief," 
he  answered,  taking  a  step  toward  the 
dining-room. 

She  looked  at  him  curiously,  then 
turned  away  with  a  sigh.  "And  you 
think  I  do  not  care,"  she  said,  bitterly. 
"  How  little  a  man  ever  knows  of  a 
woman's  heart! " 

"A  woman's  heart,"  he  muttered,  "  a 
Chinese  puzzle,  not  worth  the  solv 
ing." 

"  I  ought  to  hate  you! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  I  have  tried  hard  to  hate  you,  but — 
but  I  can't.  God  knows  it  has  been 
bitter — it  is  always  the  woman  who  suf 
fers." 

"  Then  be  generous  to  her,"  he  said. 

"Do  you  think  she  cares?"  Renee 
queried,  significantly.  "  She  has  her 
Norman  Wendell." 

"Stop!"  he  commanded.  "Not  an 
other  word." 

"  You  shall  listen,"  she  said,  angrily. 
"Why,  to-day  I  saw  him  holding  her 


THE    IDLE    BORN  159 

hand  and  kissing  it.  I  heard  him  tell 
her  that  he  loved  her." 

"  I  need  better  evidence  than  your 
word,"  he  responded. 

"What!  When  the  whole  world 
knows  it?  Come!  be  a  man — take  your 
revenge." 

<%And  reap  the  whirlwind  ?  No,  thank 
you."  He  turned  away,  but  she  seized 
his  hand  in  both  her  own  and  drew  him 
toward  her. 

"Must  I  tell  you  in  so  many  words?" 
she  cried.  "  Can't  you  see?  Don't  you 
understand?  I  love  you!" 

Ainslee  stared  at  her  in  amazement. 
He  could  not  believe  she  was  serious. 
Was  it  a  new  trick — a  clever  play  to  en 
trap  him  again  ?  She  looked  up  tenderly 
and  met  his  eyes. 

"  You  say  it  must  be  all  or  nothing," 
she  whispered,  passionately.  "Well?" 

"Then  let  it  be  nothing,"  he  said, 
gruffly,  releasing  his  hand  and  drawing 
away  from  her  quickly. 

"  Coward!  "  she  cried. 

He    could    only  pity  a   woman  who 


160  THE    IDLE    BORN 

would  so  demean  herself.  "  Don't  you 
see  it  is  too  late?"  he  said. 

In  a  moment  of  wild  passion  she  had 
abandoned  herself  to  him — for  she  loved 
him,  in  a  morbid,  frenzied  way,  because 
he  belonged  to  another,  because  she 
could  no  longer  trample  him  under  her 
feet  at  will. 

"It  is  not  too  late!"  she  exclaimed. 
"I  love  you!  Do  you  hear?  I  love  you 
— and  you  love  me!  " 

Contempt  drove  the  pity  from  Ains- 
lee's  heart.  "  I  do  not  love  you,"  he 
declared.  "  I  love  my  wife.  Now  do 
you  understand?" 

The  old  tantalizing  look  came  into 
her  eyes.  She  was  herself  again — cold, 
cynical,  mysterious. 

"So  you  think  I  am  serious?"  she 
laughed.  "  You  think  I'm  sentimental, 
and  really  care  for  you!  You  did  not 
see  through  my  little  comedy?  Well,  I 
was  acting  a  part.  And  your  wife  is 
acting  a  part,  too.  You  don't  see 
through  that,  either.  She  was  jealous 
of  me,  wasn't  she?  And  she  made  you 


THE    IDLE    BORN  161 

feel  like  a  brute,  didn't  she?  And  you 
got  down  on  your  knees  and  groveled, 
and  she  told  you  she  would  never  trust 
you  again.  And  you,  poor  fool,  loved 
her  all  the  more.  Well,  watch  her,  I 
say — and  watch  your  friend,  Mr.  Nor 
man  Wendell." 

Ainslee  looked  at  her  curiously. 
"Renee,"  he  said,  "you  are  the 
devil." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"Women  are  generally  what  men 
make  them." 

"  I  say,  Mrs.  Dressier,"  said  Dickie,  as 
he  and  Wendell  appeared  in  the  door 
of  the  dining-room,  "  is  Schuyler  so  fas 
cinating  you  can't  eat?" 

"  Fascinating?"  laughed  Renee.  "He 
was  telling  me  about  his  domestic  bliss. 
I  suppose  when  he  has  children  his  one 
topic  of  conversation  will  be  little 
Schuyler's  parlor  tricks." 

"  Well,  if  that's  the  case,"  said  Dickie, 
holding  back  the  portie're  for  her  to 
pass,  "  you  must  be  driven  to  drink." 

Ainslee  started  to  follow.     "  One  mo- 


i6a  THE    IDLE    BORN 

ment,"  said  Wendell,  stopping  before 
him. 

"  Well?"  asked  Ainslee,  harshly. 

"  I  was  there  just  now,"  answered 
Wendell,  pointing  to  the  door.  "  It  was 
quite  by  accident,  but  I  couldn't  help 
hearing  something." 

"Then  I'm  sorry  you  didn't  hear 
more,"  Ainslee  replied,  taking  a  step 
toward  the  door. 

"  I  heard  enough,  and  I  saw  enough," 
Wendell  said,  angrily,  barring  his  way 
again.  "  Do  you  expect  me  to  let  this 
go  on  without  a  protest?" 

Ainslee  turned  toward  him  quickly, 
his  face  pale  with  anger.  "  Since  when 
have  I  become  accountable  to  you?"  he 
growled. 

"Since  that  night  at  your  uncle's, 
when  you  gave  me  your  word  this  affair 
would  stop," 

"See  here,  Wendell,"  cried  Ainslee, 
"  I  refuse  to  be  answerable  for  my  con 
duct  to  anyone  but  my  wife,  least  of  all 
to  you,  when  you  make  it  your  business 
to  play  the  spy." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  163 

Wendell,  remembering  his  guests, 
checked  his  impulse  to  continue  the 
controversy.  "Ainslee,"  he  said,  "  I  have 
played  fair  from  the  start,  but  you  have 
broken  your  word.  I  owe  you  nothing 
now.  I  give  you  fair  warning — it  is  you 
against  me." 

"  Then  let  the  best  man  win,"  hotly 
replied  Ainslee,  as  he  turned  and  left 
the  room. 


IV 

I  do  suffer  love,  indeed,  for  I  love  thee  against  my 
will.  — Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

For  a  year  Norman  Wendell's  life 
had  been  inspired  by  the  feeling  that 
Margaret's  happiness  had  been  realized, 
and  that,  come  what  might,  he  had 
acted  an  honorable  part.  His  love, 
however,  was  not  a  momentary  passion 
or  sentimental  fancy  that  time  might 
cure,  for  men  such  as  he  seldom  love 
but  once.  He  had  suffered  cheerfully 
because  he  believed  that  Margaret  had 
married  the  man  she  cared  for  most. 
But  now,  as  he  stood  there  alone,  after 
the  stormy  interview  with  Ainslee,  and 
realized  that  her  happiness  was  ended, 
a  wild  thought  flashed  through  his  mind: 
Margaret's  duty  to  her  husband  was 
ended.  His  own  love  would  make  her 
forget  what  she  had  suffered. 

The  consequences?  He  did  not  stop 
'65 


166  THE    IDLE    BORN 

to  consider  them.  But,  inspired  by  the 
impulse  of  the  moment,  he  went  to  the 
Spanish  cabinet,  and  taking  up  her  pic 
ture,  gazed  at  it  long  and  earnestly. 

"  Poor  girl,"  he  thought,  "  and  what 
of  you?  You  chose  between  us  once 
— and  now?" 

The  hall  door  was  opened  softly,  and 
Margaret  stole  down  the  stairs  into  the 
studio.  With  a  frightened  look  she 
glanced  nervously  about  the  room.  An 
unfinished  canvas  standing  upon  the 
easel  separated  her  from  Wendell,  and 
she  did  not  see  him.  She  was  in  street 
dress  and  wore  a  thick  veil.  A  fur  cape 
hung  loosely  about  her  shoulders.  Hear 
ing  laughter,  she  crept  cautiously  toward 
the  dining-room.  Dickie  Willing's  voice 
broke  forth  in  comic  song,  and  she  drew 
back  quickly.  The  fur  cape  dropped 
from  her  shoulders  and  lay  upon  the 
floor. 

The  song  aroused  Wendell  from  his 
revery.  Replacing  the  picture  where  he 
had  found  it,  he  turned  and  saw  her 
standing  there. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  167 

"Margaret!"  he  exclaimed. 

"Norman!"  she  said,  with  a  start, 
"you  here?" 

"Yes.    What  does  this  mean?" 

She  glanced  toward  the  dining-room. 
"  Hush,"  she  whispered,  "  they  must  not 
know." 

Wendell  went  to  the  door  and  closed 
it  quietly.  "  Tell  me,"  he  asked,  com 
ing  toward  her  again,  "  why  are  you 
here?" 

"  I — I  thought  you  were  at  Westbury," 
she  faltered. 

"I  didn't  go.  Mrs.  Egerton  wired 
me  she  was  ill.  But  why  did  you 
come — if — if  you  thought  I  was  not 
here?" 

Margaret  hesitated.  "  I — I  expect 
ed—"  she  said  finally.  "  Oh,  it's  noth 
ing.  I  was  mistaken." 

The  laughter  and  applause  that 
greeted  Dickie's  song  came  faintly 
through  the  door.  "  Why  are  those 
people  here?"  she  said. 

"  It  was  Lady  Coldstream's  idea — a 
sort  of  surprise  party." 


i68  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Is  Mrs.  Dressier    there?"   she   in 
quired. 
"Yes." 

"And  my  husband?" 

"Yes." 

Margaret  paced  the  floor  excitedly. 
"  Did  he  know  you  weren't  at  West- 
bury?"  she  asked. 

"  Lady  Coldstream  must  have  told 
him." 

"  You  did  not  expect  them  ?  "  she  said, 
looking  at  him  searchingly.  "  You  knew 
nothing  about  their  coming?" 

"Absolutely  nothing,"  he  answered 
in  amazement.  "  But  why  do  you  ask 
me  those  questions?  What  does  it 
mean?  Surely  you  can  trust  me." 

She  came  toward  him  quickly. 
There's  no  one  else  I  can  trust,"  she 
replied,  with  a  sigh.  "  Oh,  how  can  I 
tell  you?  This  afternoon" — her  eyes 
flashed  angrily,  and  she  pressed  her  lips 
together — "  after  you  were  gone,  I  found 
a  letter  from  Schuyler — she  left  it  in 
her  muff.  It  told  her  to  meet  him  here 
to-night." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  169 

"Here?"  he  exclaimed.  "Did  you 
think  I  could  lend  myself  to  that?" 

"I  did  not  stop  to  think  —  I  only 
wanted  to  meet  them  face  to  face.  Oh, 
you  don't  know  what  it  is  to  be  jealous 
— this  mad  beating  of  the  heart — and 
all  the  furies  of  hell  dancing  before 
your  eyes  and  screaming  in  your  ears!  " 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Wendell,  impatiently. 
"  But  the  letter  !  Have  you  the  let 
ter?" 

"No,"  she  answered,  removing  her 
veil  mechanically  and  folding  it  care 
fully,  without  thought  of  what  she  was 
doing.  "  I  sent  it  back  in  the  muff.  I 
did  not  want  her  to  know  I  had  seen  it. 
But  I  remember  every  word  of  it.  '  N. 
W.  is  going  to  the  country.  Meet  me  at 
the  studio  at  11.30.  The  door  will  be 
open,  so  do  not  ring.'  "  She  looked  up 
with  misty  eyes.  "  Now  do  you  under 
stand  ?"  she  asked. 

Wendell  did  not  reply.  He  was  re 
calling  the  events  of  the  day  and  trying 
to  fit  together  the  different  bits  of  evi 
dence.  "  Oh,  I  see  it  all,"  he  finally  ex- 


THE    IDLE    BORN 


claimed,  clenching  his  hands  together 
angrily. 

"  You  believe  it  is  true  ?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  he  answered.  "Shall  I  tell 
you  why  ?" 

"  Why  not?  It  is  only  a  little  more  to 
bear." 

"Schuyler  knew  I  was  going  to  the 
country  —  I  told  him  yesterday  —  and  he 
has  a  key  to  the  studio." 

"A  key?"  she  exclaimed,  in  astonish 
ment. 

"  Yes.  You  know  before  you  married 
we  shared  these  rooms;  he  had  one 
then  —  he  has  never  given  it  back.  They 
used  to  meet  here  when  I  was  painting 
her  portrait." 

An  injured  look  came  into  her  eyes, 
"And  you  did  not  tell  me!"  she  said, 
reproachfully.  "You  let  me  marry  him." 

"  How  could  I  tell  you,"  he  protested, 
"when  I  knew  you  loved  him?  If  I  had, 
you  would  not  have  believed  me." 

"  No,"  she  answered  thoughtfully,  "  a 
woman  must  see  with  her  own  eyes  be 
fore  she  will  believe." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  171 

But  Wendell  did  not  hear.  He  was 
thinking  of  Ainslee's  perfidy.  "  That 
night,"  he  continued,  "when  he  asked 
you  to  marry  him,  he  gave  me  his  word 
it  was  ended." 

"  Go  on,"  she  said. 

"  To-night  she  had  the  impertinence 
to  insinuate  that  I  upset  their  plans,  and 
I  overheard  her  say  to  him:  "  Why  are 
we  not  here  alone,  as  we  might  have 
been?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  see."  She  put  her  hands 
to  her  eyes  wearily.  "  The  letter — the 
key — her  words." 

"  Forgive  me  for  telling  you,"  he  said, 
feelingly.  "  I  have  only  made  it  the 
harder  for  you." 

"  It  was  your  duty  to  tell  me.  It  has 
been  harder  for  you,  too,  but  I  had  to 
know  some  time." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  when 
each  waited  for  the  other  to  speak.  Fi 
nally  Margaret  put  out  her  hand.  "Good 
bye,  she  said,  with  an  effort.  Wendell 
took  her  hand  and  pressed  it  to  his 
lips. 


172  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"And  you,  Margaret,"  he  asked/'what 
will  you  do?" 

She  released  her  hand  and  stood  gaz 
ing  at  the  floor.  "  Oh,  I  shall  go  on 
living  somehow,"  she  answered,  with  a 
sigh. 

"  He  will  insult  you  every  day  that 
you  live!"  cried  Wendell.  "Think, 
Margaret,  think  what  that  means!" 

She  looked  at  him  reproachfully. 
"  Would  you  have  me  acknowledge  that 
I  have  been  beaten — humiliated  by  her? 
No,  no.  That  I  will  never  do — never. 
When  I  came  here  to-night  my  one 
thought  was  to  expose  them  to  the  world. 
But  what  would  that  mean?  A  scandal 
— a  divorce — my  name  dragged  through 
the  courts." 

She  turned  away  to  go.  She  wished 
to  be  free  to  think.  The  air  stifled  her. 

"You  won't  go  back  to  him  ?"  he  cried, 
"You  want  to  do  that?" 

"Why  not?"  she  asked,  shrugging  her 
shoulders  indifferently,  as  though  her 
future  mattered  little  now. 

With    a    sudden    impulse    Wendell 


THE    IDLE    BORN  173 

caught  both  her  hands  and  held  them 
tightly.  "  Because  I  love  you,"  he  said, 
looking  into  her  eyes  passionately.  "Do 
you  hear?  I  love  you!  Don't  sacrifice 
my  love  again.  You  owe  him  nothing 
— absolutely  nothing." 

"  I  am  still  his  wife,"  she  said.  "  Is 
that  nothing  ?" 

"  No!"  he  exclaimed.  "You  are  free! 
He  has  broken  every  promise;  he  has 
flaunted  his  infidelity  in  your  face!" 

With  a  startled  cry  she  drew  away. 

"  Do  you  mean — ?  No,  you  can't 
mean  that! " 

"  I  love  you!  "  he  repeated.  "  I  love 
you  with  all  my  soul — with  all  my  life! 
There  has  never  been  a  moment  when 
I  have  not  loved  you!" 

"Stop!  stop!"  she  said,  covering 
her  face  with  her  hands.  "Are  you 
mad?" 

"Yes — mad!"  he  exclaimed,  forcibly 
seizing  her  in  his  arms.  "  I  have  waited 
all  my  life,  and  now  you  are  mine!" 

She  heard  laughter  and  the  clinking 
of  glasses.  "  Let  me  go,"  she  cried, 


174  THE    IDLE    BORN 

struggling  to  release  herself.  "  Let  me 
go — they  will  hear!" 

"Let  them  hear!  Let  the  whole 
world  hear!" 

He  took  her  by  each  shoulder  and 
held  her  away  so  that  he  could  look 
into  her  eyes. 

"  No,  no,"  he  said,  "  I  can't  lose  you 
again." 

Margaret  gazed  at  him  in  absolute 
amazement.  She  could  not  believe 
this  man  was  the  quiet  long-suffering 
friend  she  had  always  trusted.  "  You 
don't  know  what  you  are  asking,"  she 
pleaded.  "Let  me  go!  Wait!  Wait 
until  to-morrow!" 

"Until  to-morrow,"  he  reiterated, 
with  a  vague,  hopeless  look,  his  hands 
dropping  despondently  to  his  side. 

"We  want  Normy  Wendell,"  came  all 
at  once  from  the  chorus  of  voices  in  the 
other  room 

"Oh,  if  they  see  me!  "she  cried,  in 
fright. 

Renee  Dressier  opened  the  door. 

"  Leave  it  to  me,"  she  said,  standing 


THE    IDLE    BORN  175 

in  the  doorway  and  talking  to  the 
people  in  the  dining-room.  "  I  will  find 
him." 

"That  woman!"  gasped  Margaret. 
"Quick,"  she  cried,  seizing  Wendell's 
arm  and  looking  about  with  terror. 

"Where  can  I  go?" 

For  a  moment  Wendell  stood  dazed; 
then,  suddenly  realizing  the  danger, 
he  dragged  her  to  his  bedroom,  just  as 
Renee  Dressier  turned  and  stepped 
into  the  studio. 

"  Normy  must  have  a  girl  there,  after 
all,"  called  Dickie  Willing  through  the 
open  door. 

"Then  I'll  find  the  girl,"  laughed 
Renee,  as  Wendell  closed  the  portiere 
with  a  jerk  and  placed  himself  before  it. 


V 

We  have  caught  her  madam. 

— Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

Renee  Dressier  walked  slowly  about 
the  studio,  humming  a  tune.  Casting 
an  occasional  critical  glance  at  the 
sketches  that  adorned  the  wall,  she 
managed  in  the  course  of  time  to  edge 
her  way  towards  the  door  where  Wen 
dell  was  standing  guard. 

"Very  clumsy,  Mr.  Wendell,"  she 
said,  smiling.  "  If  you  did  not  wish  me 
to  be  suspicious,  you  should  have  drawn 
the  portie're  gently  and  walked  away. 
Who  is  she?" 

"She?"  said  Wendell,  with  an  effort 
to  conceal  his  agitation.  "  There  is  no 
'she,'  that  I  am  aware  of." 

Renee  Dressier  laughed  outright; 
then  she  looked  him  full  in  the  eyes. 
"  There  is  a  woman  in  that  room,"  she 
declared.  "  What  is  the  use  of  pretend 
ing  there  is  not. 

177 


178  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Her  attack  was  so  sudden  that  for  a 
moment  he  could  find  no  words  to  reply. 
"  Really,"  he  stammered,  at  last,  "  you 
are  mistaken,  I  assure  you." 

"  Then  it  won't  be  indiscreet  for  me 
to  get  my  handkerchief,  she  said, 
naively,  taking  a  step  toward  the  bed 
room.  "  I  left  it  in  my  cloak." 

Now  thoroughly  alarmed  and  alive  to 
the  situation,  Wendell  recovered  himself 
quickly.  "  Pardon  me,"  he  answered, 
with  a  gesture  toward  an  old  settle  by 
the  stairs  where  the  wraps  of  the  party 
had  been  left.  "  Your  cloak  is  there. 
Shall  I  get  it?" 

"  If  you  will  be  so  considerate."  He 
moved  toward  the  settle.  The  moment 
his  back  was  turned  she  tip-toed 
stealthily  in  the  direction  of  the  bed 
room.  Wendell,  suspecting  her  strata 
gem,  wheeled  about  suddenly. 

"  Pardon  me  again,"  he  said,  ap 
proaching  her  quickly,  "  that  is  my 
bedroom." 

"Eh? "she  laughed.  "That  doesn't 
frighten  me." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  179 

"  You  might  at  least  wait  for  an  invi 
tation,"  he  replied,  pointedly. 

"  Mr.  Wendell  there  is  a  woman  in 
that  room,"  she  said.  "  She  was  there 
when  we  came.  I  advise  you  to  take 
me  into  your  confidence." 

He  looked  her  steadily  in  the  eyes; 
then  he  laughed. 

"  How  very  clever  you  are!  Well,  to 
be  frank,  there  is  a  woman  there — a 
friend  of  mine — a — a  model.  You  see 
I  did  not  expect  visitors  to-night." 

She  gave  a  little  cry  of  fright  and 
turned  away  quickly,  covering  her  eyes 
with  her  hand.  "Oh,  how  shocking!" 
she  laughed.  "  Do  let  me  see  her.  If 
she's  like  most  models  she's  used  to 
being  seen." 

"  But  she's  a  lady! "  he  exclaimed. 

"Oh!"  said  Renee,  quickly. 

"  I  mean  she's  not  exactly  the  ordi 
nary  model."  Wendell  was  growing 
desperate.  "  Come,  play  fair,"  he 
pleaded.  "You  might  be  sportsman 
enough  to  give  me  a  chance  to  get  her 
out." 


i8o  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Renee  shrugged  her  shoulders.  Then 
she  turned  toward  a  sketch  from  the 
nude  which  stood  against  the  wall. 

"Is  that  the  model?"  she  asked 
"  If  so,  I  should  call  her  a  model  of 
impropriety." 

Wendell  quietly  leaned  against  the 
doorpost  and  folded  his  arms.  "  Well, 
if  you  insist  upon  being  so  disagree 
able,"  he  said,  resignedly,  "  I  suppose  I 
must  make  the  best  of  it.  But  here  I 
stay  until  you  go." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  she  said.  "If  you 
don't  mind,  I'm  sure  I  don't."  With 
exasperating  persistency  she  prepared 
for  the  siege  by  suppressing  a  yawn. 
Then  she  hummed  another  tune  and 
beat  time  with  her  fingers  on  the  table. 
Suddenly  her  eyes  rested  on  Margaret's 
cloak  lying  on  the  floor. 

"Very  pretty,"  she  said,  stooping  and 
picking  it  up. 

Wendell  felt  the  color  mounting  to 
his  cheeks. 

"  Shouldn't  mind  having  it  myself." 
she  continued,  holding  the  cloak  up  and 


THE    IDLE    BORN  181 

glancing  at  it  admiringly.  "  Do  models 
always  wear  Russian  sable  capes?  "  she 
asked,  with  an  innocent  look,  as  she 
laid  the  cape  carefully  on  a  chair. 
"  Rather  expensive  for  you  painters,  I 
should  think." 

Before  he  could  reply  Lady  Cold- 
stream  and  Ainslee  entered  the  room. 

"Oh,  there  you  are!"  exclaimed 
Lady  Coldstream.  "  Ton  my  word,  Mr. 
Wendell,  you  are  casual — rum  sort  of 
host  to  desert  your  guests  completely. 
When  I  give  you  another  surprise 
party " 

"Oh,  don't  blame  Mr.  Wendell," 
interrupted  Renee  Dressier.  "  He's 
been  very  much  occupied  with  a  de 
lightful  model." 

"A  model!"  cried  Lady  Coldstream. 

"Yes,"  said  Renee,  with  a  glance  of 
triumph  at  Wendell.  "You  remember 
our  suspicions — the  locked  door — the 
pink  dressing  gown?  Well " 

"  Mrs.  Dressier,  I  beg  you,"  protested 
Wendell. 

"  Mr.  Wendell  was  at  that  moment 


i82  THE    IDLE    BORN 

engaged,"  she  continued,  regardless  of 
the  interruption — "  very  much  engaged, 
I  take  it — with  the  model  for  his  new 
picture." 

"What  picture?"  asked  Lady  Cold- 
stream,  wondering  at  Wendell's  appar 
ent  discomfiture. 

"The  one  with  which  he  intends  to 
astonish  us  all,"  Renee  continued. 
"Something  very  French — a  wife  sur 
prised  by  her  husband.  '  The  Day  of 
Reckoning,'  I  think  you  will  call  it, 
Mr.  Wendell,"  she  added,  with  a  mean 
ing  smile. 

"  Really,  Lady  Coldstream,"  cried 
Wendell,  in  despair.  "  Mrs.  Dressier 
is  drawing  upon  her  imagination." 

"Hardly,"  Renee  contradicted.  "The 
picture  I  refer  to  is  a  study  from  real 
life,  so  it  will  prove  most  instructive  to 
husbands."  She  looked  at  Ainslee. 
"  To  you  in  particular,  Schuyler,"  she 
added  insinuatingly. 

Ainslee,  who  had  been  listening 
rather  indifferently,  looked  up  in  aston 
ishment. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  183 

"  I  fail  to  see  the  humor  of  all  this," 
he  said. 

"  Possibly,"  laughed  Renee.  "  But  if 
you  will  persuade  Mr.  Wendell  to  open 
a  certain  door,  I  think  you  will  see  the 
humor  of  the  situation." 

"  What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked. 

"  Merely  that  your  wife  is  in  Mr. 
Wendell's  bedroom." 

"  My  wife,"  he  exclaimed. 

"Ainslee,  that  is  not  true,"  cried 
Wendell,  desperately. 

"OM,  O  la!"  caroled  Mrs.  Dressier, 
deprecatingly.  "  I  never  lie,"  she  went 
on,  pointing  to  the  door,  "  when  it  is  so 
easy  to  prove  the  truth." 

Ainslee  strode  forward.  "  Wendell," 
he  demanded,  "  is  my  wife  in  that 
room?" 

Wendell  looked  him  full  in  the  face. 

"  No,  she  is  not,"  he  said  sullenly. 

"Then  prove  it." 

"  Is  not  my  word  sufficient?" 

"  Not  against  mine,"  interrupted 
Renee,  defiantly. 

For  a   moment   the  two  men  stood 


i84  THE    IDLE    BORN 

rigidly  face  to  face.  Nicholas  Schuyler 
and  Dressier  came  into  the  room  and 
looked  wonderingly  from  one  to  the 
other,  not  understanding  the  meaning 
of  it  all.  Finally  Ainslee,  his  face 
paling  with  anger,  stepped  toward 
Wendell. 

"  Wendell,"  he  said,  "  open  that 
door." 

Wendell  did  not  move.  "  I  will  not," 
he  muttered,  his  face  flushing  hotly. 
"There  is  someone  there  —  it  is  not 
Mrs.  Ainslee.  You  can't  compel  me  to 
compromise  a  woman." 

Mrs.  Dressier  quietly  picked  up  Mar 
garet's  cape  and  came  toward  Ainslee. 
"  Not  when  the  lady  has  already  com 
promised  herself?"  she  said,  holding 
the  cape  before  his  eyes. 

"  Margaret's,"  he  gasped.  Then  with 
an  imprecation  he  advanced  upon 
Wendell  menacingly. 

"  Stand  back! "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Never,"  said  the  artist,  planting 
himself  firmly  before  the  door. 

"  By  God,  you  shall!  "  cried  Ainslee 


THE    IDLE    BORN  185 

seizing  Wendell  roughly  by  the  arm 
and  pushing  him  against  the  wall. 
The  two  men  grappled,  and  Wendell 
struggled  desperately  to  hold  his 
ground;  but  Ainslee  was  by  sheer 
weight  forcing  him  gradually  from  the 
door,  when  the  portiere  was  thrown 
back  and  Margaret  walked  calmly  into 
the  room. 


VI 

Grim  and  comfortless  despair. 

— Comedy  of  Errors. 

Ainslee's  hands  dropped  mechanic 
ally  to  his  side.  For  a  moment  he 
stood  gazing  at  his  wife,  completely 
bewildered.  Her  manner  was  so  com 
posed  and  defiant  that  even  Renee 
Dressier  was  taken  aback,  while  poor 
Wendell  stared  at  her  as  though  she 
were  an  apparition  from  the  lower 
world. 

"Margaret!"  Ainslee  gasped,  when 
he  had  recovered  from  his  astonishment 
sufficiently  to  speak. 

"Why  not?"  she  answered  coldly. 
"  Does  it  surprise  you?  " 

"Oh,  dear,  no,"  interrupted  Renee 
Dressier,  quickly.  "  One  can  never  be 
surprised  at  anything  nowadays." 

Ainslee     turned     toward     Wendell. 
"You  shall  answer  for  this,"  he  said. 
187 


i88  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  When  we  settle  accounts,"  replied 
Wendell,  sternly,  "the  balance  won't 
be  on  your  side." 

Nicholas  Schuyler  stepped  between 
them.  "  Enough  of  this,"  he  com 
manded.  "  Let  her  explain.  I,  for  one, 
refuse  to  believe  Margaret  Ainslee  ever 
did  anything  wrong." 

"The  lady  is  caught,"  sneered  Renee 
Dressier,  "  in  her  admirer's  room.  Is 
any  explanation  necessary?" 

"And  you  dare  say  that!"  cried 
Margaret,  her  eyes  glowing  with  anger. 

"K*/" 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Renee  with 
a  mock  curtsy.  "Can  you  deny  it? 
Have  we  no  eyes?  " 

"  Isn't  your  anxiety  to  convict  rather 
keen  for  a  disinterested  party?"  inter 
rupted  Lady  Coldstream.  "  How  does 
this  affair  concern  you?" 

"Oh,  merely  as  a  friend  of  the  family," 
returned  Renee,  with  a  deprecatory 
shrug. 

"  Well,  deliver  me  from  such  a  friend!" 
said  Lady  Coldstream,  in  disgust. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  189 

Ainslee  turned  toward  his  wife. 
"  Margaret,"  he  asked,  his  voice  trem 
bling  as  he  spoke,  "have  you  no  ex 
planation?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  quickly,  "if  I 
choose  to  give  it." 

"  My  dear,"  interrupted  Lady  Cold- 
stream,  "remember  the  position  you 
are  in." 

Margaret  did  not  reply.  For  a  mo 
ment  she  looked  her  husband  full  in  the 
eyes. 

"For  God's  sake,  say  something!" 
he  said. 

"  I  will,"  she  answered,  scornfully. 
"  But  remember  that  for  your  sake  I 
was  willing  to  be  silent." 

"  For  my  sake?"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  I  came  here  to  meet  you — and 
her.  Now  do  you  understand?" 

Ainslee  stared  at  her  in  astonishment. 
"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked. 

"  I  mean  that  I  saw  your  letter." 

"  Not  a  word! "  whispered  Renee  aside 
to  her  husband.  Dressier  nodded  know 
ingly. 


i9o  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Have  I  said  enough?"  Margaret 
continued,  "or  shall  I  go  on?" 

"  Go  on,  go  on,"  Ainslee  exclaimed 
— "  if  you  know  what  you  are  talking 
about." 

"  Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean,"  she 
said,  angrily.  "  I  found  the  letter  you 
wrote  Mrs.  Dressier,  telling  her  to  meet 
you  to-night.  How  unfortunate  that 
N.  W.  did  not  go  to  the  country!" 

"Are  you  crazy?"  he  gasped,  utterly 
unable  to  understand  her  meaning. 

"Ask  Mrs.  Dressier  where  she  left 
her  muff  this  afternoon.  The  letter 
was  in  it,  and  I  read  it." 

Nicholas  Schuyler  stepped  forward 
quickly.  "Schuyler,"  he  said,  angrily, 
"  if  this  is  true " 

"  I  tell  you  it  isn't  true,"  protested 
Ainslee,  indignantly.  "  I  have  not  writ 
ten  to  Mrs.  Dressier  since  my  marriage. 
I  came  here,  as  you  know,  at  Lady 
Coldstream's  invitation." 

"Oh!  oh!"  cried  Margaret.  "How 
dare  you  say  that?  " 

"Very    clever,    Mrs.    Ainslee,"    said 


THE    IDLE    BORN  191 

Renee  Dressier.  "Very  well  acted. 
But  where  is  the  letter?" 

Margaret  gave  her  enemy  a  wither 
ing  glance.  "  You  know  perfectly  well 
where  it  is,"  she  answered. 

Renee  Dressier  smiled.  "  My  dear 
Mrs.  Ainslee,  since  you  see  fit  to  accuse 
me  in  order  to  save  yourself,  I  must  tell 
you  that  you  do  not  speak  the  truth.  I 
have  never,  as  your  husband  says,  re 
ceived  any  letter  from  him  since  his 
marriage." 

Margaret  grew  very  pale.  "  That  is 
a  lie!"  she  exclaimed. 

Lady  Coldstream  seized  Margaret's 
arm.  "Margaret,"  she  pleaded,  "stop! 
You  don't  know  what  you  are  say 
ing." 

"  I  do  know,"  she  answered,  slowly. 
"  I  say  again  that  it's  a  lie." 

Mrs.  Dressier  turned  to  Ainslee.  "  I 
appeal  to  you,  Mr.  Ainslee,  to  defend 
me,"  she  implored. 

Ainslee  controlled  his  anger  suffi 
ciently  to  speak  calmly.  "  Before  you 
accuse  others,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  "  re- 


i92  THE    IDLE    BORN 

member  your  own  position.  You  said 
you  were  too  ill  to  leave  the  house,  and 
I  find  you,  alone,  in  the  room  of  a  man 
who  was  in  love  with  you.  I  know 
positively  he  did  not  expect  visitors. 
What  is  more,  he  denied  you  were  there, 
and  tried  forcibly  to  prevent  my  finding 
you.  Instead  of  explaining,  you  make 
ridiculous  accusations  which  you  cannot 
substantiate." 

Margaret  gazed  at  her  husband  in 
utter  bewilderment.  She  could  not  be 
lieve  he  would  be  so  base  as  to  sacrifice 
her  to  save  himself. 

Wendell,  who  had  been  listening,  at 
tentively,  finally  resolved  to  assume  the 
blame  if  the  opportunity  presented  it 
self.  From  his  point  of  view  the  entire 
affair  was  a  conspiracy  between  Renee 
Dressier  and  Ainslee  to  compromise 
Margaret  in  order  that  suspicion  might 
be  diverted  from  themselves.  This 
miserable  cowardice  was  more  than  he 
could  bear  in  silence. 

"  You  know  perfectly  well  why  she  is 
here,"  he  said,  suddenly,  to  Ainslee.  "  If 


THE    IDLE    BORN  193 

you  are  coward  enough  to  protect  your 
self  at  her  expense,  I  am  not.  You 
want  me  to  acknowledge  it,  do  you,  so 
that  you  can  go  scot  free  ?  Very  well, 
then;  I  do  love  your  wife." 

"Damn  you!"  responded  Ainslee, 
hoarsely. 

Nicholas  Schuyler  stepped  before  his 
nephew.  "Stop,  Schuyler,"  he  warned; 
"  you'll  only  demean  yourself." 

Margaret  looked  at  Wendell  hope 
lessly.  "  Norman,"  she  uttered,  in  de 
spair,  "  what  have  you  said  ?  What  have 
you  done?" 

"  The  only  thing  possible." 

She  believed  he  had  compromised 
her  intentionally,  to  make  the  rupture 
with  her  husband  complete.  With  a 
cry  of  pain  she  turned  to  Ainslee.  "  No! 
No!  "  she  exclaimed;  "it  is  not  true.  I 
tell  you  I  am  innocent!" 

Ainslee  turned  his  back  without  reply 
ing.  In  desperation  she  seized  Nicholas 
Schuyler's  arm.  "You  don't  believe! 
Tell  him  you  don't  believe!" 

"  You  have  disgraced  us  all,"  Nicho- 


i94  THE    IDLE    BORN 

las  Schuyler  said,  coldly.  "  I  am  sorry 
that  I  lived  to  see  it." 

Wendell  held  out  his  arms  appeal- 
ingly.  "  Margaret,"  he  said  in  a  tone 
of  despair. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me! "  she  cried.  "  I 
hate  you!" 

He  stared  at  her  in  dismay.  She  had 
killed  the  one  hope  that  made  life  toler 
able. 

Nicholas  Schuyler  laid  his  arm  gently 
upon  his  nephew's  shoulder  and  led  him 
slowly  toward  the  door.  "  My  poor 
boy! "  he  said.  "  My  poor  boy! " 

When  they  had  gone,  Margaret  stag 
gered  toward  a  chair  and  sank  down, 
crushed  and  humiliated.  The  revenge 
of  Renee  Dressier  had  been  com 
plete. 

Lady  Coldstream  took  Margaret's 
hand  quietly.  "  I  never  went  back  on 
a  pal  yet,"  she  whispered,  "  and  I  won't 
begin  now." 

Margaret  glanced  up  with  a  wild,  ap 
pealing  look,  and  pressed  Lady  Cold- 
stream's  hand  gratefully  to  her  heart. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  195 

"A  very  successful  surprise  party!" 
said  Renee  Dressier,  cheerfully.  "  Lady 
Coldstream,  I  congratulate  you!" 


PART  IV 
ONE   MORNING 


I 

You  speak  like  a  green  girl. 


—Hamlet. 


When  Lady  Coldstream  entered  the 
library,  on  the  following  morning,  her 
usually  imperturbable  disposition  was 
visibly  ruffled.  Her  first  action  was  to 
ring  the  bell;  then  she  walked  to  the 
table,  and,  taking  up  a  morning  paper, 
glanced  over  its  columns  nervously. 

"  Is  it  in  the  papers?"  she  said  half- 
aloud.  "Just  like  that  Dressier  woman 
to  give  it  out!"  Her  eyes  rested  on  a 
glaring  headline.  "  Oh,  I  say,"  she  ex 
claimed.  '"Scandal  in  High  Life — 
Rumors  of  a  Divorce.' "  After  quickly 
scanning  the  article,  she  put  the  paper 
down  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  No,"  she 
continued,  "  some  other  woman.  Pretty, 
of  course.  The  only  consolation  plain 
women  have  is  being  virtuous." 

"  Did  your  ladyship  ring?"  asked  the 
servant  who  answered  the  bell. 
199 


200  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  Yes,"  she  said  unfolding  another 
paper  with  the  thought  that  possibly  its 
news-gatherers  were  more  enterprising 
than  those  of  the  journal  she  had  just 
inspected.  "  Is  your  master  back  yet?  " 

"  No,  my  lady,"  replied  the  servant, 
with  uncomprising  gravity.  "'E  slept 
at  the  club.  Horders  came  just  now 
for  the  valet  to  take  his  things  there." 

"Oh!"  said  Lady  Coldstream,  with 
an  inflection  that  might  mean  a  great 
many  things.  "  Has  your  mistress  had 
breakfast?" 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  but  I'm  afraid  she's 
hill.  The  tray  came  down  just  now 
with  nothink  touched." 

Lady  Coldstream  continued  to  scan 
the  columns  of  her  paper.  After  a 
moment's  hesitation,  the  man  made  so 
bold  as  to  interrupt.  "  I  beg  pardon, 
my  lady,"  he  said,  apologetically,  "  but 
the  lady's  maid  say  the  mistress  do  look 
'orrible  pale.  Hought  I  to  send  for  the 
doctor?" 

"  No,"  answered  Lady  Coldstream, 
with  the  domineering  tone  the  English 


THE    IDLE    BORN  201 

employ  toward  servants.  "  You  may 
go." 

"  Very  good,  my  Lady." 

"Fancy  sending  for  a  doctor!"  she 
laughed  when  the  man  had  disap 
peared.  "  A  lawyer  would  be  more  to 
the  point." 

Lady  Coldstream  was  not  alone  in 
her  anxiety,  for  Eveline  presently 
bustled  into  the  room  with  an  air  of 
great  excitement.  She  carried  a  large 
basket  filled  with  envelopes  stamped 
and  addressed,  which  she  was  bearing 
hastily  in  the  direction  of  the  hall,  when 
Lady  Coldstream  hailed  her. 

'I  say,  what's  all  that?"  asked  the 
English  beauty,  eyeing  the  basket  of 
notes  suspiciously. 

"  Don't  bother  me,"  answered  Eve 
line,  in  a  tone  of  great  importance. 
"  I'm  recalling  the  invitations  for  the 
dance." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Lady  Cold- 
stream,  dropping  her  paper  in  as 
tonishment.  "  Who  told  you  to  do 
that?" 


202  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  My  own  intelligence,"  replied  the 
girl,  with  a  defiant  toss  of  her  head. 
"  You  couldn't  expect  Cousin  Margaret 
to  consider  such  details  after  the 
scandal  of  last  night?  " 

"Scandal!  Child!  there  hasn't  been 
any  scandal." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  answered  Eveline, 
testily.  "  The  wife  is  discovered  by  the 
husband  in  the  rooms  of  her  lover.  If 
that  isn't  a  scandal,  what  is?" 

Lady  Coldstream  gasped  for  breath. 
"  Well,  'pon  my  word!  "  she  exclaimed, 
when  she  had  recovered  from  her  as 
tonishment.  "  For  little  Miss  Innocent, 
fresh  from  a  convent,  you're  doing 
rather  well." 

"  Of  course,  there'll  be  a  duel,"  said 
Eveline,  continuing  her  progress  toward 
the  hall.  "  How  romantic!  Quite  like 
a  French  novel." 

Lady  Coldstream  stepped  forward 
and  barred  Eveline's  route  of  egress. 
"  And  what  do  you  know  about  French 
novels,  pray?"  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  I've  read  a  lot,"  answered  Eve- 


THE    IDLE    BORN  203 

line  triumphantly.  "  A  girl  needs  to 
know  everything  nowadays  if  she  wants 
to  get  on." 

"  What  you  need  is  a  good  spank 
ing." 

Eveline  glared  at  her  resentfully. 
"  You  seem  to  forget  I'm  out,"  she 
exclaimed,  drawing  herself  up  to  the 
commanding  height  of  five  feet  three. 

"  Well,"  muttered  Lady  Coldstream, 
"  you'd  better  go  in  again  and  stay  in 
till  you're  ripe.  As  for  these,"  she  con 
tinued  taking  the  basket  of  notes  from 
Eveline's  hands,  "  I'll  take  care  of  them. 
The  dance  will  not  be  postponed — not 
if  I  can  prevent  it." 

Without  further  ado  she  emptied  the 
contents  of  the  basket  into  the  fire  and 
walked  calmly  to  the  drawing-room, 
before  the  terrified  Eveline  could 
recover  from  her  astonishment. 

Eveline  threw  herself  into  a  chair 
so  energetically  that  she  broke  a 
spring. 

"  Nasty  old  thing! "  she  muttered. 
"  How'd  she  like  it  if  I  told  everybody 


204  THE    IDLE    BORN 

she  rouges  and  bleaches  her  hair?  I 
will,  too!" 

She  might  have  formed  even  direr 
plans  for  vengeance  on  the  recalcitrant 
beauty  had  not  Dickie  Willing  mean 
dered  into  the  room  with  a  consequen 
tial  air,  induced  by  the  possession  of  a 
new  suit  of  clothes  from  Sackville 
street. 

"Good  morning,  Miss  Crosspatch," 
he  murmured,  after  tiptoeing  lightly 
to  a  position  of  vantage  behind  her 
chair. 

Eveline  jumped  to  her  feet.  "  What! 
you  dare  come  here?"  she  said,  with  all 
the  haughtiness  she  could  command, 
which,  to  tell  the  truth,  was  not  very 
much. 

"  Rather!  "  chuckled  Dickie,  gleefully, 
depositing  his  hat  on  the  table  and  re 
moving  his  gloves,  with  the  evident 
intention  of  holding  his  ground.  "  Is 
the  dance  on  or  off?" 

Eveline  gave  him  a  look  of  scorn. 
"  Didn't  I  tell  you  never  to  speak  to  me 
again?  "  she  demanded. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  205 

"  That's  why  I'm  doing  it,"  he  gur 
gled. 

"Your  impertinence  is  sublime." 

"  From  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous; 
it's  up  to  you." 

"Indeed!"  she  exclaimed,  with  a 
petulant  shake  of  her  pretty  head  that 
to  Dickie  was  most  alluring;  but  it 
required  more  courage  to  embrace  that 
particular  opportunity  than  even  he 
possessed,  especially  as  experience  had 
taught  him  that  girls  resent  being  kissed 
before  luncheon. 

"  I  say,"  he  said,  appealingly,  "  let's 
make  up." 

"  Not  until  you  apologize  for  your 
unpardonable  behavior  of  last  night." 

Eveline  accompanied  her  words  with 
a  frown  that  Dickie  evidently  relished, 
for,  instead  of  apologizing,  he  laughed. 

"  I  love  you,"  he  said,  when  he  had 
recovered  from  his  merriment.  "  What 
more  do  you  want?" 

"  Words,  meaningless  words,"  she 
answered,  with  a  deprecatory  wave  of 
her  little  hand. 


206  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"Well,  I  like  that,  by  Jove!"  he 
whined.  "  Been  off  my  feed  for  a 
month.  Got  so  thin,  clothes  won't  fit. 
Got  to  get  a  new  kit.  Damned  ex 
pensive  loving  you." 

"Such  language  to  a  lady!"  Eveline 
exclaimed,  indignantly. 

"  Apologize — didn't  mean  to  swear — 
that  is,  anything  but  eternal  devotion." 
Then  an  idea  occurred  to  Dickie, 
"  Perhaps  you'd  like  me  to  do  it  up 
brown.  Well,  here  goes!"  Whereupon 
he  dropped  upon  both  knees  with  a 
thud  that  shook  the  house.  But,  unfor 
tunately  for  his  calculations,  Lady 
Coldstream  came  into  the  room  at  that 
moment  and  was  a  witness  to  his 
intensity. 

"Oh,  Eveline,  Eveline!"  he  pleaded, 
with  arms  extended,  "  say  that  you'll  be 
mine!" 

As  Eveline  was  unquestionably  on 
the  point  of  wavering,  Lady  Cold- 
stream  thought  it  wise  to  prevent  the 
appeal  from  becoming  irresistible;  so, 
coming  forward  with  a  cushion  snatched 


THE    IDLE    BORN  207 

from  a  neighboring  divan,  she  placed 
it  carefully  before  the  astonished 
Dickie. 

"Allow  me,"  she  said.  "You  may 
find  the  floor  a  trifle  hard." 

Dickie  cocked  his  head  on  one  side 
and  looked  up  at  Lady  Coldstream 
with  a  fetching  smile.  "  Ha! "  he 
chuckled.  "  Rather  neat,  what?" 

Eveline,  however,  saw  nothing  hu 
morous  in  the  situation.  "  Perhaps, 
Mr.  Willing,"  she  said,  sharply,  as,  with 
much  difficulty,  that  irrepressible  youth 
struggled  to  his  feet,  "  you  will  be  good 
enough  to  fulfil  the  object  of  your  visit; 
the  decorations  are  still  incomplete, 
and " — with  a  chilling  glance  at  the 
English  beauty — "  Lady  Coldstream  in 
sists  that  the  dance  is  on." 

Having  delivered  this  tirade  with  all 
the  irony  she  could  command,  she 
turned  haughtily  on  her  heel  and 
flounced  out  of  the  room. 

Dickie  followed  meekly.  When  he 
reached  the  door  he  turned  and  winked 
at  Lady  Coldstream.  "  Oh,  I  am 


208 


THE    IDLE    BORN 


enjoying  myself,"  he  murmured,  as  he 
disappeared  behind  the  portiere. 

"  He's  not  such  a  fool  as  he  looks," 
said  Lady  Coldstream,  settling  herself 
comfortably  in  an  arm-chair.  "  But 
what  are  rich  girls  for,  if  it  isn't  to  pro 
vide  for  poor  young  men?" 


II 

I  appeal  to  your  own  conscience. 

—  The  Winter's  Tale, 

Lady  Coldstream's  experience  of  the 
world  had  convinced  her  that  there  is  a 
woman  at  the  bottom  of  everything,  be 
it  good  or  bad,  and  it  did  not  need  a 
great  deal  of  acumen  to  satisfy  her  that 
the  source  of  all  evil  for  the  Ainslee 
family  was  Renee  Dressier.  Although 
intuition  firmly  convinced  her  that  Mar 
garet  was  innocent  of  any  intrigue  with 
Norman  Wendell,  she  was  as  yet 
unable  to  divine  a  way  out  of  the 
dilemma  in  which  her  friend  had  be 
come  involved.  While  carefully  sifting 
the  different  circumstances  of  the  case 
— so  far  as  she  understood  them — with 
the  hope  of  discovering  a  way  to  solve 
the  mystery,  she  was  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  Margaret  herself.  She  was 
pale  and  careworn,  and  had  evidently 
209 


2io  THE    IDLE    BORN 

passed  a  night  of  anguish.  Lady  Cold- 
stream  went  toward  her  quickly. 

"  Mornin',  dear.    I  hope  you  slept." 

"  I  never  closed  my  eyes,"  answered 
Margaret,  wearily. 

"  Nonsense.  You  look  fit  as  a  fiddle," 
said  Lady  Coldstream,  putting  her  arm 
about  her  waist  and  leading  her  toward 
a  chair.  With  a  sigh  Margaret  sank 
into  the  chair  and  looked  up  at  her 
friend  despondently. 

"  I  shall  never  forget,  dear,  how  good 
you  were  to  me — never.1' 

"  I  only  stood  by  a  pal — it's  a  poor 
sort  who  wouldn't." 

"  I  don't  know  another  woman  who 
would." 

"There,  there,"  said  Lady  Cold- 
stream,  cheerfully.  "  This  isn't  the  time 
for  sentiment.  We've  got  to  pull  you 
out  of  this  mess  before  it's  all  over 
town.  The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  find 
Schuyler  and  tell  him  everything." 

"Oh,  he  won't  believe,"  said  Mar 
garet,  bitterly.  "  He  doesn't  want  to 
believe." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  211 

Lady  Coldstream's  face  assumed  an 
expression  of  disgust.  "  Now,  what's 
the  use  of  funking?"  she  protested. 

"You  heard  what  he  said.  He  denied 
writing  the  letter,  to — to  save  himself." 

"Spoof!     Schuyler  isn't  that  sort." 

"I  tell  you  I  read  it,"  retorted  Mar 
garet.  "  I  tell  you  I  saw  that  woman  in 
his  arms." 

"And  he  found  you  in  Wendell's 
rooms,"  said  Lady  Coldstream,  with  up 
lifted  brows.  "  Don't  forget  that." 

Margaret  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  Don't 
speak  of  that  man!  "  she  cried,  angrily. 

Lady  Coldstream  looked  at  her  and 
laughed.  "  Why  not? "  she  asked,  in  an 
irritating  way.  "  By  your  own  confes 
sion  you  knew  he  was  in  love  with  you. 
Now,  a  tame  cat  is  all  very  well,  pro 
vided  he's  a  cat,  but  when  he  happens 
to  be  a  man,  look  out!  " 

"  Oh,  I  admit  I  was  wrong;  but  is  that 
any  excuse  for  him?" 

"  Men  don't  look  for  excuses;  they 
look  for  opportunities." 

"Well,  he  had   his,"  said   Margaret, 


2i2  THE    IDLE    BORN 

bitterly,  "  and  he  behaved  like  a 
cad." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  responded 
Lady  Coldstream,  with  a  doubtful  shake 
of  the  head.  "  Take  your  own  story. 
You  went  there  to  catch  your  husband 
and  the  Dressier  woman.  Common 
sense  should  have  told  you  that  was  the 
last  place  in  the  world  they  would 
choose.  Well,  you  didn't  find  them. 
You  found  Wendell  and  a  supper  party. 
Did  you  go  home  decently  and  say  noth 
ing  about  it?  No;  you  poured  forth 
your  tale  of  woe  to  a  man  you  knew  was 
in  love  with  you,  and  he  promptly  of 
fered  to  console  you — just  as  any  self- 
respecting  lover  would." 

Lady  Coldstream  paused.  Margaret 
was  looking  out  of  the  window  with  a 
hopeless,  woe-begone  expression  in  her 
eyes.  The  beauty  smiled  to  herself. 

"  Did  you  rise  in  your  wrath  and  in 
dignation? "  she  continued.  "Did  you 
call  for  help?  No;  you  meekly  told  him 
to  wait  until  to-morrow,  and  when  you 
heard  some  one  coming  you  lost  your 


THE    IDLE    BORN  213 

head  completely  and  fled  to  his  bed 
room.  He  lost  his  head,  too,  but  he 
lied  like  a  gentleman.  Then,  when  you 
were  caught,  and  nobody  believed  your 
story,  did  he  ,run  to  cover?  No;  he 
stood  up  to  it  like  a  man.  If  you'd 
been  even  half  in  love  with  him  you'd 
have  fallen  into  his  arms  on  the  spot 
and  taken  the  next  steamer  for  the 
South  of  France." 

"The  one  man,"  said  Margaret,  re 
gretfully,  "  I  thought  I  could  trust.  How 
I  have  been  deceived  in  him! " 

"Yes," replied  Lady Coldstream,  "it's 
the  clever  women  who  are  taken  in  by 
men — it's  the  silly  women  who  take  men 
in." 

Margaret  turned  away  from  the  win 
dow. 

"Oh,  I  know  I've  been  a  fool,"  she 

said. 

"Well,  we  won't  argue  that  point." 

Lady  Coldstream  heard  a  step  behind 

her  and  looked  up.  Ainslee  had  entered 

the  room  quietly,  and  was  gazing  at  his 

wife.     Margaret  turned  and  met  her 


2i4  THE    IDLE    BORN 

husband's  eyes.  For  a  moment  they 
stared  at  each  other  coldly. 

Lady  Coldstream  looked  first  at  one 
and  then  at  the  other.  "Well,"  she 
asked,  finally,  with  a  desire  to  relieve  the 
situation,  "shall  I  leave  you?" 

"If  you  will,"  said  Ainslee.  "I  wish 
to  speak  to  Margaret  alone." 

"  No,  no,  Muriel,"  protested  Margaret; 
"  don't  go!  I  prefer  you  to  hear." 

"As  you  please,"  said  Lady  Cold- 
stream,  resuming  her  seat. 

Ainslee  took  a  step  toward  his  wife, 
then  hesitated.  He  was  haggard  and 
careworn,  and  was  evidently  struggling 
to  control  his  emotions. 

"  Well,"  said  Margaret,  "  I  am  wait 
ing." 

"  Margaret,"  he  said,  drawing  a  hand 
wearily  across  his  eyes,  "all  last  night  I 
walked  the  streets  trying  to  find  some 
justification  for  you.  Even  if  what  you 
suspected  were  true,  is  that  any  excuse 
for  you?" 

"If  you  are  here  to  upbraid  me — " 
she  protested. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  215 

"No;  I  leave  that  to  your  own  con 
science." 

Margaret's  face  flushed  angrily. 
"  When  you  are  ready  to  beg  forgive 
ness  for  your  insults,"  she  said,  "  I  will 
listen." 

He  started  to  reply,  but  she  turned 
away  abruptly  and  walked  out  of  the 
room. 


Ill 

Give  him  this  letter ;  do  it  secretly. 

— The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

When  Ainslee  had  recovered  from 
his  astonishment  at  Margaret's  extra 
ordinary  behavior,  he  turned  to  Lady 
Coldstream. 

"I  beg  forgiveness  of  her?"  he  said, 
in  amazement. 

Lady  Coldstream  looked  at  him  and 
laughed.  "My  dear  boy,"  she  replied, 
"there  are  two  kinds  of  fools — those 
who  are  born  so,  and  those  who  make 
fools  of  themselves.  You  belong  to  the 
latter  class." 

"You  take  her  part,  of  course!  "he 
retorted. 

"  Rather,  when  you  aren't  sportsman 
enough  to  ride  straight." 

"I?"  he  exclaimed.  "What  do  you 
mean?" 

Lady  Coldstream  calmly  lighted  a 
217 


218  THE    IDLE    BORN 

cigarette  before  replying.  "  Oh,  the 
usual  domestic  drama,"  she  said,  as  she 
blew  out  the  match.  "  The  frisky  hus 
band  and  the  wicked  lady." 

"  Go  on — play  your  part — you've  got 
it  pat  enough." 

Lady  Coldstream  made  rings  of 
smoke.  "  Naturally,  the  wife  is  jeal 
ous,"  she  continued,  regardless  of  his 
irony.  "  Was  there  ever  a  woman  who 
was  not?  When  she  catches  the  hus 
band  with  the  lady  in  his  arms  he  tries 
to  deny  it.  Was  there  ever  a  man  who 
wouldn't?" 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  impatiently,  "  the  trick 
of  an  unscrupulous  woman." 

"  Circumstantial  evidence,  however; 
many  a  man  has  been  hung  on  that." 

Ainslee  walked  back  and  forth  ex 
citedly.  "I  told  Margaret  the  truth," 
he  protested.  "  She  refused  to  believe." 

"  Naturally,"  observed  his  companion, 
dryly.  "  When  she  finds  a  letter  mak 
ing  a  date  with  the  lady." 

"There  is  no  such  letter!"  he  ex 
claimed. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  219 

"  Beg  pardon,  there  is  such  a  letter." 

He  stopped  suddenly  and  looked 
Lady  Coldstream  in  the  eyes.  "  Do 
you  mean  to  tell  me  that  Margaret  is 
innocent?"  he  asked. 

"  Rather!  I'd  stake  my  last  penny  on 
it." 

"  Then  prove  it,"  he  said,  earnestly. 
"God  knows  I  want  to  believe  it!" 

Lady  Coldstream  gave  him  a  look 
of  disgust.  "  Why,  man,"  she  replied. 
"  her  own  words  prove  it.  Guilty 
women  don't  stand  up  and  accuse — they 
get  down  on  their  knees  and  beg." 

For  a  moment  Ainslee  stared  vacantly 
at  the  floor;  then  he  drew  his  hand 
across  his  eyes  as  if  he  were  trying  to 
gather  his  thoughts.  "  Oh,  if  I  could 
believe  it!"  he  said.  "  You  don't  know 
what  tortures  I  went  through  last  night. 
I  was  mad,  Muriel,  raving  mad!  There 
was  nothing  I  couldn't  have  done. 
Then,  somehow,  I  began  to  think  of  the 
men  here  in  New  York  whose  lives  had 
been  wrecked  like  mine.  The  divorce 
court  —  that  is  their  story.  One  poor 


220  THE    IDLE    BORN 

fellow  went  to  France  and  fought;  an 
other  killed  himself.  It  made  me  will 
ing  to  give  her  one  more  chance.  That 
was  why  I  came  to-day — for  the  sake  of 
the  future — for  the  sake  of  my  name. 
And  she  refused  to  listen." 

"  Can't  you  see  she  believes  you 
guilty?" 

"Guilty?"  he  exclaimed,  turning 
toward  her  in  astonishment.  "  Why, 
Renee  Dressier  played  me  that  trick 
because  I  refused  what  most  men  would 
have  jumped  at." 

"  Yes,"  remarked  Lady  Coldstream, 
airily,  "  she  has  played  you  from  the 
word  go." 

This  irony  was  lost  on  Ainslee.  His 
mind  was  too  much  occupied  with  his 
own  misery. 

"  And  I  tried  to  be  square.  I  made 
her  give  me  back  the  letters  I  wrote  her 
before  I  was  married,  and  I  burned 
them  there,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the 
fireplace.  "  Does  that  sound  like  play 
ing  fast  and  loose?" 

He  stopped   suddenly.    "Wait,"   he 


THE    IDLE    BORN  221 

said,  hurriedly  realizing  the  events  of 
the  previous  day.  "  Could  it  have  been 
one  of  those  letters?" 

"Oho!"  muttered  Lady  Coldstream, 
"  a  bit  of  daylight  at  last." 

Ainslee  plunged  his  hands  into  his 
pockets  and  paced  the  floor  thought 
fully.  "  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  did  write  such 
a  letter — once — but  she  was  out  of  town. 
Heaven  knows  what  might  have  hap 
pened  otherwise!  " 

"  I  say,"  interrupted  Lady  Cold- 
stream,  impatiently,  "  are  you  going  to 
drivel  over  the  past,  or  are  you  going 
to  do  something?  You've  got  to  explain 
that  letter — it's  your  only  chance." 

"  Easily  said,  but  how?  " 

"  Make  her  tell,  even  if  you  have  to 
make  love  to  her." 

He  turned  toward  her  quickly.  "By 
Jove!"  he  exclaimed;  "an  idea!" 

"  Well  it's  about  time." 

"  Yes,  it  may  work,"  he  said,  going  to 
the  writing  table.  Seizing  a  pen,  he 
wrote  a  hurried  note,  while  Lady  Cold- 
stream  watched  him  curiously  out  of 


222  THE    IDLE    BORN 

the  corner  of  her  eye.  When  he  had 
finished  the  missive  he  blotted  it  care 
fully,  directed  an  envelope,  and  then 
handed  it  to  her  for  perusal. 

"There,  that  may  do  it,"  he  said, 
touching  the  bell  for  a  servant. 

Lady  Coldstream  took  the  letter  and 
read  as  follows: 

"My  Dear  Dressier: 

"  Your  wife  has  a  letter  I  wrote  her 
some  months  ago.  If  you  will  get  it, 
bring  her  here  immediately,  and  induce 
her  to  tell  the  truth  ;  I  will  cancel  your 
note  and  waive  the  interest. 

"  Yours  truly, 
"Schuyler  Ainslee." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  she  said,  as  she  handed 
back  the  letter.  "  Hush  money." 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,"  he  an 
swered,  putting  the  letter  in  the  en 
velope  and  sealing  it  carefully.  "  I  was 
rather  in  love  with  Renee  Dressier 
once,  and  when  Dressier  asked  for  a 
loan — well,  he  got  it.  The  fellow  is  an 
all-around  cad." 

"  If  he  does  what  you  ask,"  remarked 


THE    IDLE    BORN  223 

his  companion,  indignantly,  "  he's  an 
out-and-out '  rotter.' " 

Without  replying,  Ainslee  turned  to 
the  servant  who  had  answered  the 
bell  and  handed  him  the  letter.  "Take 
that  note  to  Mr.  Dressier,"  he  said. 
"  Hand  it  to  him  yourself.  If  he  is  out, 
bring  it  back.  Under  no  circumstances 
give  it  to  anyone  else." 

When  the  man  had  gone  he  turned 
to  Lady  Coldstream.  "  Muriel,"  he 
said,  "  until  I  knew  Margaret  I  never 
took  love  seriously.  It  was  a  game 
of  chance,  and  it  didn't  much  matter 
with  whom  I  played." 

"Yes,"  she  grunted,  sententiously; 
"  I've  known  men  before  with  hearts 
like  a  hand-organ — a  tune  for  every 
street." 

"  Oh,  it's  been  a  lesson  to  me,"  he 
said,  despondently. 

"And  to  her,  too,"  replied  Lady 
Coldstream,  drily. 

A  footman  entered  the  room  and 
handed  Ainslee  a  card.  He  glanced  at 
it  carelessly,  then  started. 


224  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  Muriel,  look!  "  he  exclaimed,  hand 
ing  the  card  to  his  companion.  She 
read  the  name.  It  was  "  Mr.  Norman 
Wendell." 

"Whom  did  he  ask  for?  "  she  asked 
the  man. 

"  For  Mr.  Ainslee,  my  Lady." 

"  For  me?"  exclaimed  Ainslee,  in  as 
tonishment. 

"Why  not?  "said  Lady  Coldstream. 
"  The  morning's  the  sweet  time  for 
repentance."  Turning  to  the  man, 
she  ordered  him  to  show  in  Mr. 
Wendell. 

"  Do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  Ainslee 
commanded. 

"Show  him  in,"  she  repeated,  em 
phatically.  The  footman  was  in  a 
quandary,  but,  inspired  by  the  awe 
of  the  nobility  which  is  inborn  in  every 
Briton's  heart,  he  hastily  proceeded  to 
execute  Lady  Coldstream's  command. 

"  Muriel,"  protested  Ainslee,  "  I  will 
not  see  him." 

"You've  got  to  see  him,"  she  said, 
rising  from  her  chair.  "You  know 


THE    IDLE    BORN  225 

something — he  knows  the  rest.  Hear 
what  he  has  to  say.  When  you  have 
put  two  and  two  together,  I'll  wager 
you'll  say  '  Forgive  me,  old  chap;  we've 
both  been  wrong! ' 

"  Not  until  he  proves  he  isn't  a  black 
guard,"  he  muttered. 

"  Keep  your  temper,  dear  boy,"  said 
Lady  Coldstream,  sweetly.  Hearing 
Wendell's  step,  she  hastily  beat  a 
retreat. 

"  In  case  you  need  a  lawyer,  I'll  be 
in  there,"  she  continued,  in  a  whisper, 
pointing  to  the  drawing-room. 


IV 

What  proof  shall  I  make  of  that? 

— Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

Ainslee  turned  and  bowed  stiffly  as 
Wendell  entered  the  room.  For  a 
moment  the  two  men  faced  each  other 
in  silence.  Ainslee  was  the  first  to 
speak. 

"  May  I  inquire  the  reason  for  this 
visit?"  he  asked,  coldly. 

"Ainslee,"  said  Wendell,  struggling 
to  control  his  emotion,  "  I  can't  let  this 
affair  go  any  further  without  an  expla 
nation.  I'm  not  here  to  defend  myself; 
you  and  I  have  a  long  score  to  settle, 
but  I  want  to  tell  you,  on  my  honor, 
that  your  wife  is  innocent." 

"Why,  man,  you  confessed!"  ex 
claimed  Ainslee,  in  surprise. 

"Oh,  I  don't  take  back  what  I  said; 
I  love  Margaret — you  know  that  per 
fectly  well.  But  I've  been  straight 
227 


228  THE    IDLE    BORN 

with  you.  I  kept  my  word  until  you 
broke  yours.  When  she  came  there 
last  night  I  don't  think  she  even  sus 
pected  what  was  in  my  heart.  I  tell 
you,  she  is  true  as  steel.  It's  more  than 
you  deserve." 

Ainslee  looked  at  him  searchingly. 
"Then  why  was  she  in  your  room?"  he 
asked. 

"She  found  your  letter.  She  came  to 
confront  you  and  Renee  Dressier." 

"Then  why  did  you  lie  to  me?" 

"  Because  she  was  caught  like  a  rat 
in  a  trap,  and  when  she  told  the  truth 
you  were  coward  enough  to  save  your 
self." 

Ainslee  gazed  at  the  floor  thought 
fully.  For  a  moment  he  did  not  reply. 

"Wendell,"  he  said,  finally,  looking 
his  enemy  straight  in  the  eye,  "  if  you 
think  I  wrote  such  a  letter — if  you 
believe " 

"  I  saw  with  my  own  eyes,"  broke  in 
Wendell.  "I  heard " 

"You  saw  a  clever  woman  play  a  bold 
game  to  get  even  with  me  for  refusing 


THE    IDLE    BORN  229 

to  be  her  monkey-on-a-chain.  If  you 
had  waited  you  would  have  heard  the 
truth." 

"  But,  man,  your  letter!"  cried 
Wendell. 

"  Is  one  I  wrote  months  ago,  before  I 
was  married — if  there  is  such  a  letter." 

"Ainslee,"  asked  Wendell,  "is  this 
true?" 

"  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor." 

"  Then  I  have  misjudged  you." 

Ainslee  came  toward  him  quickly. 
"You  said  she  was  innocent;  now 
prove  it." 

"What!  You  love  her?"  said  Wen 
dell,  in  astonishment. 

"  Love  her!  I'd  give  my  life  to  save 
her  this  disgrace." 

Wendell  looked  at  him  in  silence,  not 
knowing  what  to  think. 

"Why  do  you  stare  like  that?"  ex 
claimed  Ainslee.  "  You  are  concealing 
something.  Tell  me  the  truth — every 
word  of  it." 

"Then  send  for  her,"  said  Wendell, 
quietly. 


23o  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  For  Margaret?" 

"  Yes.  I  wish  to  prove  what  I  say  in 
a  way  that  will  leave  no  doubt  in  your 
mind.  You  don't  know  what  it  will  cost 
me — but  you  will  be  satisfied." 

Ainslee  drew  back  in  surprise  "  I 
don't  understand,"  he  said. 

"  Send  for  Margaret,"  repeated  Wen 
dell.  "When  she  comes,"  he  continued, 
pointing  to  the  drawing-room,  "  listen 
there  to  what  I  have  to  say." 

"  No,"  said  Ainslee,  firmly,  "  I  am  no 
eavesdropper." 

"  If  you  value  your  happiness,  do  as  I 
say.  Only  promise  me  not  to  interrupt, 
no  matter  what  you  hear." 

Wendell  was  so  thoroughly  in  earnest 
that  Ainslee  wavered.  He  had  tried  in 
vain  to  fathom  the  mystery  of  Mar 
garet's  conduct.  Now  he  felt  it  his 
duty  to  leave  no  stone  unturned  to 
satisfy  himself  of  her  innocence. 

"Well,  he  said,  finally,  "  I  promise." 

"Schuyler,"  said  Wendell,  turning 
toward  him  suddenly,  "  if  you'd  been 
frank  with  me  last  night  this  would  not 


THE   IDLE    BORN  231 

have  happened.  Remember  that,  won't 
you?" 

Ainslee  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 
"Yes,"  he  said;  "but  I  don't  under 
stand." 

"You  will,  soon  enough.  Now, 
quick — get  Margaret." 

Ainslee  turned  and  walked  to  the 
door  of  the  drawing-room.  "  Muriel!" 
he  called,  "Muriel!" 

"  Yes,"  said  Lady  Coldstream,  faintly, 
from  behind  the  portiere. 

"Will  you  send  Margaret  here?"  he 
continued.  "  Don't  let  her  know  that  I 
want  her,  or  that  Mr.  Wendell  is  here. 
Make  any  excuse  you  can." 

"  I  understand." 

Wendell  waited  until  he  heard  Lady 
Coldstream's  step  in  the  hall  beyond. 

"  Did  she  hear? "  he  asked. 

"  But  for  her  I  should  have  refused  to 
see  you,"  said  Ainslee.  "  She's  been  a 
trump  from  the  start." 

"  Don't  let  her  hear  now." 

"Well,  as  you  please,"  and  Ainslee 
walked  away  abruptly  and  entered  the 


232  THE    IDLE    BORN 

drawing-room.  As  he  drew  the  por 
tiere  he  felt  like  a  culprit  for  playing 
the  spy,  but  he  hoped  and  prayed  it  was 
for  the  best. 

Wendell  walked  back  and  forth, 
anxiously  waiting  for  Margaret.  "If  I 
had  only  known,"  he  said.  "  If  I  had 
only  known!" 

Finally  Margaret  entered  the  room, 
unsuspectingly.  She  had  been  told 
that  Nicholas  Schuyler  had  called,  in 
the  hope  of  effecting  a  reconciliation. 
There  are  times  when  it  is  a  sin  to 
tell  the  truth,  and  Lady  Coldstream 
was  convinced  that  this  was  one  of 
them. 

Margaret  saw  Wendell  and  drew 
back.  "  YOU!"  she  said,  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,'.'  he  answered,  coming  toward 
her  quickly. 

"Why  are  you  here?"  she  asked, 
almost  harshly. 

"  For  my  answer." 

"Your  answer?" 

"  You  said  'Until  to-morrow.'  Is  it  to 
be  always  4  Until  to-morrow'? " 


THE    IDLE    BORN  233 

She  colored  angrily  and  turned  away. 
"  Last  night,"  she  said, "  I  was  charitable 
enough  to  think  you  mad.  If  you  had 
any  heart  you  would  go." 

"  No,  no,"  he  cried,  passionately.  "  I 
cannot  go — I  love  you — I  love  you! 
You  are  my  paradise,  my  torment!" 

"Don't,  don't,"  she  exclaimed,  draw 
ing  back  in  fright.  "  Can't  you  see  it  is 
useless?  Are  you  blind?" 

"Yes,  blind!     I  see  only  you." 

"Go,  go,"  she  cried,  "Show  some 
pity,  and  go." 

He  was  acting  a  mean  part,  knowing 
full  well  that  she  would  hate  him  for 
the  sacrifice  he  was  making,  but  there 
was  bitter  truth  in  every  word  he  spoke. 
"You  are  mine,  by  every  right  on 
earth!"  he  cried. 

"Because  he  forgets  I  am  his  wife?" 
she  said  indignantly. 

"His  wife!  "he  laughed. 

"Stop,"  she  commanded.  "  Because 
I  told  you  my  wretched  story — because 
I  trusted  you — have  you  the  right  to 
insult  me?" 


234  THE    IDLE    BORN 

"  Is  it  an  insult  to  think,  to  dream,  to 
feel  only  you  ? " 

"  And  I  believed  you  were  my 
friend! "she  said,  bitterly.  "Can  any 
woman  make  a  man  her  friend?" 

"  No.  Not  the  man  who  loves  her 
with  every  fibre  of  his  heart,"  he  cried, 
grasping  her  wrists. 

"Oh,  oh,"  she  pleaded,  struggling  to 
release  herself.  "  If  you  had  any  sense 
of  honor! " 

"  Listen,  Margaret,"  he  whispered, 
passionately.  "  What  is  left  except  my 
love?" 

"You  coward!"  she  said,  throwing 
him  aside  with  all  her  strength. 

For  a  moment  he  stood  looking  at 
her.  He  thought  she  had  never  been 
so  beautiful  before. 

"So  this  is  the  end!  "  he  said  at  last. 
"  You  would  have  married  me  once — 
and  now  when  you  are  free  you  will 
not  listen."  He  took  a  step  toward 
her  quickly.  "Answer  me,"  he  said. 
"  I  have  a  right  to  know.  Is  it  because 
you  love  him?  " 


THE    IDLE    BORN  235 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  looking  him  firmly 
in  the  eyes,  "  because  I  love  kirn." 

Wendell  strode  swiftly  toward  the 
drawing-room.  "Schuyler,"  he  shouted, 
"Schuyler!  Did  you  hear?" 

Ainslee  threw  aside  the  curtain  and 
came  toward  him  excitedly.  "If  I  had 
known  the  price  you  meant  to  pay — " 
he  began. 

"Ah,  Schuyler,"  answered  Wendell. 
"  there  has  never  been  a  moment  when 
it  was  not  you.  Down  on  your  knees 
and  beg  forgiveness." 

Without  a  word  Ainslee  approached 
his  wife  and  held  out  his  hands  appeal- 
ingly.  "  Margaret,"  he  said,  "  forgive 
me.  You  said  you  would  listen  when  I 
could  beg  forgiveness." 

Margaret  drew  back,  her  cheeks 
burning.  "  So  you  set  a  trap  for  me — 
you'  played  the  spy!  It  was  mean — it 
was  cruel!" 

"  It  was  I,  Margaret,"  interposed 
Wendell.  "  I  begged  him  to  listen. 
Think  what  I  said  to  him  last 
night!" 


236  THE    IDLE    BORN 

She  did  not  answer.  She  could  not 
find  it  in  her  heart  to  answer. 

"  You  have  proved  your  innocence," 
Wendell  said.  "  But  what  must  he 
think  of  me?"  There  was  despair  in 
his  tone. 

Ainslee  grasped  his  hand.  "  I  wish  I 
had  half  your  courage,"  he  said. 

Wendell  looked  up  gratefully.  He 
felt  the  sacrifice  had  not  been  in  vain. 

Lady  Cold  stream  came  into  the  room 
quietly,  and  stood  for  a  moment  wait 
ing.  Finally  Ainslee  turned  to  his 
wife. 

"  Forgive  me! "  he  said.  It  was  love 
for  you  that  made  me  doubt." 

"  Forgive  you  ?  No.  Not  until  you 
show  me  that  I  can  forgive.  I  need 
proof  as  well  as  you.  Why  don't  you 
set  a  trap  for  her  and  let  me  play  the 
spy?" 

She  turned  away  to  go. 

Lady  Coldstream  stepped  before  her. 
"For  shame,  Margaret!  It's  a  woman's 
duty  to  forgive." 

Margaret  threw  her  arms  about  Lady 


THE    IDLE    BORN  237 

Coldstream's  neck  and  buried  her  face 
on  her  shoulder. 

"  I — I  can't,  Muriel,"  she  cried. 
"They  have  killed  what  little  heart 
was  left." 


V 

Forgive  him !  and  forgive  us  all. 

— Measure  for  Measure. 

Lady  Coldstream  was  convinced  that 
half  the  battle  had  been  fought  and 
won,  but  she  was  not  at  all  certain 
about  the  outcome  of  the  other  half,  for 
Renee  Dressier  was  yet  to  be  explained. 
Fortunately  for  the  success  of  her 
schemes,  the  butler  entered  the  room  at 
the  very  moment  when  she  was  most  at 
a  loss  for  a  plan  of  campaign,  and 
gravely  heralded  the  arrival  of  "Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Dressier." 

At  the  sound  of  those  detested 
names,  Margaret  turned  toward  her 
husband.  "  That  creature  dares  come 
here?"  she  exclaimed. 

"Hush!"  said  Lady  Coldstream, 
quickly,  placing  a  finger  over  her 
lips  to  enjoin  caution.  "  Your  cue  is 
silence." 

239 


24o  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Renee  Dressler's  reception  was  not 
of  the  most  cordial  nature.  Lady  Cold- 
stream  and  Ainslee  bowed  coldly,  while 
Margaret  turned  her  back  abruptly. 
Renee  saw,  however,  by  Wendell's  pres 
ence,  and  the  worried  expression  on  the 
faces  about  her,  that  she  had  inter 
rupted  the  domestic  drama  at  an  inop 
portune  moment,  and  this  conclusion 
aroused  a  smile  of  satisfaction. 

"What  a  charming  funeral!"  she 
said,  with  an  amused  glance  about  the 
room.  "  Is  one  expected  to  send  flow 
ers?" 

The  chilliness  of  the  atmosphere, 
however,  was  in  no  wise  tempered  by 
this  remark. 

"  Have  you  got  it  ?  "  Ainslee  whispered 
hastily,  to  Dressier. 

Dressier  placed  a  letter  quietly  in 
Ainslee's  hand.  "  I  found  it  in  her 
desk,"  he  said,  keeping  an  eye  on  the 
movements  of  his  wife.  "  If  she  won't 
tell  the  truth,  I  will." 

"  I  seem  to  be  the  corpse,"  remarked 
Renee  Dressier,  after  several  futile 


THE    IDLE    BORN  241 

attempts  to  gain  recognition  for  her 
self. 

"  Not  yet,"  said  Lady  Coldstream,  in 
a  manner  that  foreboded  evil. 

"  Oh,  really! "  replied  Renee,  defiantly. 
"  I'll  die  hard,  you'll  find." 

"  A  cat  usually  has  nine  lives,"  re 
marked  Lady  Coldstream  sotto  voce  to 
Wendell. 

Renee  Dressier  began  to  suspect  that 
Monty  had  been  up  to  some  deviltry. 

"  You  asked  my  husband  to  bring  me 
here,"  she  said  to  Margaret,  suddenly. 
"Well?" 

"  I  ? "  exclaimed  Margaret,  in  surprise. 

"  My  wife,"  interrupted  Ainslee, 
quickly,  "  wishes  you  to  explain  the  cir 
cumstances  connected  with  this  letter." 

He  quietly  took  the  letter  Monty  had 
given  him  from  its  envelope  and  held  it 
before  her  eyes.  But  she  was  equal  to 
the  occasion. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  after  a  careless  glance 
at  the  writing,  "  the  letter  you  wrote  me 
yesterday." 

"Then  you  did  receive  a  letter  yes- 


242  THE    IDLE    BORN 

terday?"  said  Lady  Coldstream,  point 
edly. 

For  a  moment  Ainslee  was  discon 
certed  by  the  audacity  of  her  defense, 
but  he  recovered  himself  quickly. 

"  There  is  no  date,"  he  said,  examin 
ing  the  letter  carefully.  "Are  you  quite 
sure  yesterday  was  not  a  year  ago?" 

Renee  looked  at  him  with  an  expres 
sion  of  surprise.  "  Oh,  how  stupid  of 
me!"  she  said,  with  feigned  naivete. 
"  If  I'd  only  known  the  story  you  meant 
to  tell!  Well,  I've  done  it — we  may  as 
well  face  the  music." 

"Very  clever,  very  clever,"  answered 
Ainslee,  quietly.  "  But,  if  you  do  not 
care  to  tell  the  truth,  I  think  your  hus 
band  will  spare  you  the  trouble." 

"What!  Monty  tell  the  truth!"  she 
laughed  sarcastically.  "  I  adore  new 
sensations." 

"  My  dear,"  said  her  husband,  in  a 
careless  way  that  augured  trouble, 
"when  you  returned  Mr.  Ainslee  the 
letters  he  wrote  you  before  his  mar 
riage,  this  one  was  overlooked.  I  found 


THE    IDLE    BORN  243 

it,  and,  as  it  bears  no  date,  and  might 
be  misconstrued,  I  took  the  liberty  of 
returning  it  myself/' 

"  Fool! "  she  hissed,  under  her  breath. 

A  quiet  smile  of  satisfaction  crossed 
Monty's  lips.  "  Oh,  I'm  not  sure  of 
that,"  he  said.  "Mr.  Ainslee  appreciates 
my  kindness  so  thoroughly  that  you 
ought  to  share  my  gratitude." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  con 
temptuously  and  turned  away. 

"Well,"  she  muttered,  "  as  you  have 
made  it  a  matter  of  business." 

"  One  moment,  my  dear,"  he  an 
swered,  stepping  quickly  before  her  and 
barring  her  way.  "  Is  what  I  say  true, 
or  do  you  prefer  a  scandal?" 

"Oh,  dear,  no!"  she  laughed  scorn 
fully.  "  Scandals  are  so  common  now 
adays  that  I  couldn't  even  become  a 
sensation." 

"Then  you  acknowledge  I  speak  the 
truth?" 

"  My  dear,  your  reputation  for  verac 
ity  is  such  that  I  wouldn't  attempt  to 
contradict  you." 


244  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Ainslee  had  been  struggling  to  con 
trol  his  anger,  but  it  broke  forth  at  last. 
"Then  tell  my  wife,"  he  cried,  "that  what 
she  saw  yesterday  was  a  damnable  trick 
played  by  you  in  a  moment  of  pique." 

"  Don't  Schuyler,"  protested  Renee, 
"  you  know  I  hate  heroics." 

"Tell  her  the  truth,"  he  commanded. 

"  When  you  refrain  from  talking  long 
enough  to  give  me  the  opportunity." 

She  turned  to  Margaret. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Ainslee,"  she  said, 
"  you  really  ought  to  exhibit  your  hus 
band  under  glass.  A  man  who  loves 
his  wife  is  such  a  curiosity  that  the  pub 
lic  ought  not  to  be  deprived  of  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  one." 

Margaret  had  listened  in  silence  to 
all  that  had  been  said.  The  anger  in 
her  heart  had  slowly  given  place  to 
hope,  until  finally  she  realized  that  she 
had  been  the  victim  of  a  cowardly 
revenge. 

"Mrs.  Dressier,"  she  said,  haughtily, 
"  I  thank  you  for  your  sincerity.  I  wish 
I  could  forgive  your  cruelty." 


THE    IDLE    BORN  245 

For  a  moment  Renee  forgot  the  part 
she  was  acting.  "  You  see  the  husband 
I  have,"  she  said.  "  Can  you  blame  me 
for  envying  you  yours?"  It  was  only 
a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  woman 
beneath  the  mask,  but  it  was  enough  to 
tell  the  story  of  a  life,  for  women  are 
usually  what  men  make  them — tender 
creatures  of  sentiment,  or  devils. 

Renee  regretted  what  she  had  said, 
for  the  old  reckless  look  came  into  her 
eyes,  and  her  lip  curled  contemptuously. 
"  You  really  must  excuse  me,"  she  con 
tinued,  quickly.  "  I'm  lunching  out." 

She  put  out  her  hand,  but  her  cruelty 
was  more  than  Margaret  could  forgive. 
Renee  shrugged  her  shoulders  and 
glanced  about  the  room  defiantly. 

"  Good  morning,  everybody,"  she 
said.  Ainslee  and  Wendell  looked  the 
other  way.  Lady  Coldstream  turned 
her  back. 

"  I  see,"  she  continued,  as  a  parting 
shaft,  "  that  the  manners  of  good 
society  are  becoming  quite  as  bad  as 
the  morals." 


246  THE    IDLE    BORN 

Beaten,  but  not  humiliated,  she  turned 
away,  and  walked  slowly  out  of  the 
room,  her  head  held  high  in  defiance, 
and  her  eyes  flashing  contempt  for  the 
world  that  had  turned  its  back  upon 
her.  When  she  had  gone  Dressier 
quietly  touched  Ainslee's  arm. 

"  How  about — ?  you  know,"  he  said, 
suggestively. 

"  This  afternoon,  at  my  office,"  Ains- 
lee  replied,  shortly. 

Dressier  smiled,  and  nodded  famil 
iarly  to  Margaret  and  Lady  Cold- 
stream.  "  Good  morning,  ladies,"  he 
said,  walking  toward  the  door.  "  Hope 
you  don't  mind  my  hurrying.  The 
missis'll  give  me  the  deuce  if  I  keep 
her  waiting." 

When  Lady  Coldstream  heard  his 
step  in  the  hall  she  turned  to  Wendell. 
"'Pon  my  word,"  she  exclaimed, 
"  there's  a  brace  of  birds  for  you." 

"  Vultures!"  commented  Wendell, 
vigorously. 

Eveline  came  rushing  into  the  room, 
dragging  Dickie  Willing  after  her. 


THE    IDLE    BORN  247 

"  Cousin  Margaret,"  she  called,  "  we 
— we're  engaged." 

"  Ha!  Rather  neat,  what?"  chuckled 
Dickie. 

The  moment  for  the  promulgation  of 
this  startling  news  was  not  opportune, 
and  nobody  realized  this  so  thoroughly 
as  Lady  Coldstream.  Before  Eveline 
could  recover  from  the  astonishment 
caused  by  the  frigid  reception  of  the 
announcement  that  she  had  selected  a 
partner  for  life,  Lady  Coldstream  seized 
her  by  the  hand  and  dragged  her 
forcibly  out  of  the  room. 

"Who  cares  if  you  are  engaged?" 
she  said.  "  Come,  this  is  no  place  for 
you." 

Dickie  followed  meekly.  "  Oh,  I  am 
enjoying  myself,"  he  muttered,  as  he 
went. 

When  Lady  Coldstream  and  her 
charges  had  disappeared,  Margaret 
and  Ainslee  looked  at  each  other. 
They  both  felt  very  foolish,  and  for  a 
moment  neither  had  the  courage  to 
speak.  Ainslee,  however,  finally 


248  THE    IDLE    BORN 

stepped  forward  manfully  and  assumed 
the  burden  of  blame. 

"Margaret,"  he  said,  "can  you  for 
give?" 

"Oh,  Schuyler,  I've  been  such  a 
fool!  "she  cried,  burying  her  face  on 
his  shoulder. 

For  the  moment  they  forgot  poor 
Wendell.  He  stood  there  alone,  gaz 
ing  at  the  last  act  of  a  comedy  in  which 
he  had  played  the  only  mournful  r61e. 
The  sight  of  their  happiness  affected 
him  profoundly.  Dazed  and  unnerved, 
he  turned  away. 

Ainslee  looked  up  suddenly.  "  Why, 
Norman,  old  man,"  he  said,  "  you're  not 
going?" 

"Yes,  I'm  going." 

"  But  where  ? "  asked  Margaret,  cheer 
fully. 

"God  knows!" 


THE  END. 


PRINTED  BY  R.  R.  DONNELLEY 
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